10 June 2012
When I'm at my proudest.
A whisper's smile: it's light.
You always point out something.
There's a fault; it's not quite right.
I suppose I'll never be brilliant.
Destined for picking apart.
Your constant, raging downers- -Do something to my heart.
I try. I swear. I really do. And even if it's fine...
There'll be something very wrong, You'll find it there, in time.
I'm sorry. I'm down. A bit depressed. I guess I'll just hang on.
Pass the reins. To someone else. Let's have a different song.
Depressed. • Opuss № I