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Depression kills.
I hate feeling like this.
Yet I love it.
It makes me feel normal.
Because everyone feels sad.
Everyone gets mad and they never feel good.
I look up at the poorly plastered wall.
Who am I to judge?
I am nothing more.
I am nothing less.
Who could give a s**t about my opinion?

I'm a meth baby,
a crack-head baby.
I dont mean nothin.
I'm not even supposed to be alive.
And my mother could have died but she didn't.
Thats where I get my greed.
I need to feed.

I intercept the phone lines
and die in slow time.
I always wish that I where dead.
But death would be too easy.

My mind goes on an endless rampage,
Intelligence was never what I needed.
Now that I have it, I keep sinking in.

Deeper and deeper will I fall.
Never ending my displeasure.
My digression was not intended.

I've learned my lesson and now I live this.
I breathe this ******** sweet depression essence.