Why are some people so complicated
I want to say " I love your I all, but drama is driving me crazy"
I mean it like try
The baggage isn't fault ; I not going lie
But when do stuff, stuff that the think only hurt themselves, 
I want ask them "why?"

Do they no how many sleepless night
And person vs. self fight 
I had over them
I feel like I can't win
I just want give in to voice in my head 
The voice says "stop calling them, pretend like their dead "

I know, cutting, eating disorders, and depression, aren't thing you choose, thing you can't help
But it true : self harm hurt more then just yourself 
Sometime you feel it time you stop talking them and say to them , to yourself " your problem aren't mint, and hurt me when hurt yourself"
Sometime you just walk away
And rue the day when you meet them
Ask " why should help them"
Maybe even say "no one helped me!"

But you can't, you won't
For under a the a layering of depression, grows a garden of hope
Somewhere, in that ball of confusion,
There is happy, fun friend, so one that not worth loosing no matter the cost
Paradox of these feelings
Even if your emotions are reeling
You fight
You keeping fighting 
Through the problem
Hoping to reach the friend you love