The ugly truth

You always know how to find me. How to take my smile and slap on a fake one. You come back to me over and over again as if we're friends. Trampling in to my every day life, un-invited, you slowly pick me apart. As a stare at my son you are right there next to me, wearing my smile as i wipe the tears off my face. I ask for my smile back but you put it in your pocket and whisper that you'll save it for later. You enjoy watching me suffer. As I stare into darkness every night, begging God to be with me, you lay next to me, starring at me with that same old grin, knowing i will wake up the same tomorrow. You feed me my daily dose of lies as soon as I wake up, as you know i will overanalyze every aspect of my life. It's not me that doesn't want to answer the phone, it's you. You want me all to yourself. To keep me in this tiny bubble, afraid of what will happen next. Afraid of everything. Well I just want to tell you that I am done being afraid. Im done sleeping on a wet pillow. I done listening to you. You've done enough to me. There is nothing left to take. Dear depression, I hate you.