Mental Illnesses

This about sums up my brain situation.

Let's change topic. Talk about nothing but facts. Fact is, nothing is more accurate then feelings, nothing else unseen stands above ceilings. Honesty is I've never stopped being depressed. I have voices screaming silently to all but me. I feel my broken heart collide with my lungs sometimes filling my airway with echoing sobs. I suffer through insomnia, too to drift to terror. I live this life physically making my own joy, I'll live the rest of my life wishing I was again a boy. Not a teen nor baby. The boy who always found a way to smile. That boy got lost in my mind's dungeon. That boy is still dearly missed. Happiness, even the word brings light to most. Happiness, what I plead for in prayer. Depression, the giant black widow webbing a blockade to freedom. Such a venomous bite with such a sweet after taste. Suicide isn't the only solution, There is suffering too. I choose too suffer for the ones I love, even after most choose release. I've had so many chances, hell, still do, yet I still refuse. I still choose abuse. I still choose to let life smack me and scream "F**k You!" everyday. I choose this because of the tears that will flood sleeves. I choose this to make sure the few I love still never stop smiling. For if I was to leave I'd suffer more knowing they're pain, for it's almost the same pain I embrace. It's the pain that gears my mind. I'd rather live through this pain till my end then to watch them form my emotional twin.