As you see all things black and meaningless,

you feel that love is bulls***.

you hear your heart beat, 

the same heart you so desire to quit beating at all.

Staring off, 

listening to the high pitched sound coming from the walls that is some how soothing.

This "depression" leaves you vulnerable, 

complete vulnerability to all things,

then someone comes along and steals that vulnerability, changing it into dependency, 

dependent on their words,

their voice,

their breath. 

Then he touches you, immediately making the hair on your arms rise.

Once again you are vulnerable,

depending on his love just keep you sane.

Yet his movements,

he himself drives me insane,

in an idyllic way.

So as we lay here, me being libidinously vulnerable and dependent, 

I SEE DEPRESSION AS SOMETHING ROMANTIC.