When Depression Comes a Knockin'

It's too easy to let Her in.
You kinda have to fight it out.
The kind of fight that leaves you exhausted.
You sorta open that door,
and there She is.
And She says, "Hey, I brought cake.
And ice cream.
And tons of make-up.
And a push-up bra.
Everything that'll make you feel better."
But when you let Her in,
and She gives you all this stuff,
you realize its no different
and that you just have tons of extra shit
that you don't even need.
And you're like, "Fuck.
Why did I do that?"
And you just let Her get the best of you.
Because She's still there.
She didn't just drop it off
and leave.
She is still there,
and She's telling you bullshit
and feeding you bullshit
and making you remember when
things were better.
And instead of smiling that smile
you usually smile
when recalling memories,
you just break down.
And you cry,
because the past is the past.
It's not the future.
And you feel fucking screwed.
And you wonder why you didn't take advantage of it.
And She agrees.
You are fucking screwed.
Why didn't you take advantage of it?
So, its worth the fight
to not let Her in.
She just makes a mess of things
and leaves a bigger mess.
She kinda hangs off you when She's around
wrapping Her needy little arms around your neck
and manipulating you.
Saying, "Oh, baby, I know how you feel,
because I am that feeling.
Don't let go of me,
because then we'll both be alone.
And you don't want to be alone, do you?
So hang tight,
tight onto me.
I'm all you've got,
and no one else will get it."
Don't let Her in.
I'm warning you,
as a creature and victim
of my own self-pity.
Don't let Her in
because it will be harder to make Her leave.