Untitled

Tonight I'm not sleeping.
No, I'm not out late
like normal teenagers
at 3 a.m partying.
I'm in my room,
I'm by myself
and I can't stop thinking.
Stupid love songs
make me miss you.
You said you miss me
but I was too afraid
to tell you I feel the same.
There's so much at risk,
so much can go wrong.
I feel like depression
is holding me at gunpoint
threatening to come around
with it's grimy fingers
and wrap them around my throat
if I was to make a decision.