Empty Bottles and Sleepless Nights

I can't explain depression.
The distinct definition can't be posted on the back of a pill box.
The very feeling itself can't be put into words.
Somedays I hate myself so much it's hard to breath.
Everything aching but asking for more.
I would love nothing better than to fall to the floor.
Or climb to the top and jump,
lets end it now.
A single tear rest on my cheek, but nobody reaches out.
I want to fix this.
I want to be saved.
But sometimes I think I'll rest shallow in my grave.
And all the looks, all the scars where for nothing.
Trying to please a world that is nothing more than destructing.
I AM alone.
I AM forgotten.