Depression

I see people walking; smiling, and think to myself, I wish I could do that. Nobody looks at me. They see me, but they ignore me. As if I was nothing to look at. As if I was nothing to steal even a small little glance at. I cry alone in the corner of my bedroom, for no apparent reason at all. I feel like a crumpled piece of paper; turning smaller, and smaller, until I'm thrown into the corner of the room, on the bottom of the trash can. When I'm alone i feel my shadow creeping behind me, like a giant hand waiting for a chance to grab me, and suffocate me. But when I look behind me, all I see is just my plain, old shadow. The same shadow that holds all of my nightmares. It's waiting. It's waiting for a chance to grab me, and trap me into my own nightmares. The same nightmares that wake me up in the middle of the night, crying, screaming, yelling, "when is it going to end!". I hold the knife to my wrist, while my hand won't stop shaking. It's as if a part of me is saying, "Don't do it! It's not worth it!". I finally drop the knife, and fall to the ground with hot tears rushing down my face. Who am I to hold a knife to my own wrist, I think to myself, it's as if something had taken over my body. I open the shades, as the rising sun embraces me with its warmth. "I've missed this warmth. I've missed this light", I say. I don't no how it'll happen, or how long it'll take, but somehow, I'll come back.