I've heard metaphors for years

telling me that depression is a lover,

attentive, abusive, and always there for you,

even when you don't want them around.


I've never been good at relationships.

I'm either independent or a parasite,

but I never make it known if I need

any sustenance from their body.


I keep my distance. Kisses on cheeks,

soft hands that do not roam,

I am a gentleman. I will never

take advantage of what I know is not mine.


This is until I see the sadness drifting.

My shadow lover is growing old of

the corpse that refuses to rot,

and just as they're about to leave me,


I call them, with wounded wrists and

panic attacks in the bathroom.

They smile at me, take me into their arms

and keep me company at night when


I finally get time away from my friends.

I'll want to stay in bed with them for weeks,

but I make myself get up, even if it takes

all day for me to do it. I make sure to


shower after two days at the most,

find something healthy to eat,

even when I don't have the energy.

I take care of myself in the ways I'm supposed to,


but my lover reminds me of the ways

I destroy myself, even thought it feels like

a warm blanket around my shoulders as

blood trails down my arms.


I keep my hold on them until I start to wish

for my single days, back when I could

go out with my friends without having to leave

after an hour with anxiety in my veins.


I end up dreaming about the days where

my Tumblr was filled with nature,

and funny gifs, and pictures of baby animals,

and of flowers, and thigh highs, and girls


I want to know, and men that

I want to fuck, and women that

make me want to leave hickeys

on their inner thighs at midnight.


So, I don't delete my browser history.

I let them see the flowers on my blog.

I tell my lover that I miss enjoying the rain,

and that I think I should go back to


my apartment, where even if I want to die,

I never will, because suicides are too messy,

and I don't want my siblings to find me

the way the realtor found my father.


So, we'll go back from texting all day

to only telling each other, "goodnight."

And I'll feel slightly better than numb

for a few days, or weeks, or months.


It all depends on when I realize that

I miss them.