cold.

Wave after wave of depression hits me. This is my own fault, of that I am sure. Exiled by my own hand. I remember what you said, "Depression is a choice." Then I choose to be happy... I am knocked down again. Depression is in my blood. It swims up and around in my veins, tearing and singing it's melancholy song that resonates cold in my bones. I want it out. I want to be warm. Set myself on fire....

I'm so cold.