Dean has been sleeping on my couch,
creating mountains of trash and ***** clothes.
It’s been hard to keep people around
Tears and broken hearts are swept in dark corners and under rugs
There was one year, I thought Dean had left for good.
He had been gone for 5 months
and I could feel a smile grow on my face.
I found a lover to bloom with,
to grow old with.
My heart, shining across valleys and through the night.
That was, until November, when Dean came back.
depression is dean