Depression Woman

Nights would fall on the woman who could not hear her crying. He would hold his doors until the bulge of all the things he had ingested could not fit inside him. Whenever she lay in her bed, the gloom would lay beside her. The woman, who resisted to make up for everything that was left unfinished, succumbed to depression tonight as well. His bed would be accustomed to tears, and he wouldn't have noticed this at all. He needed someone to remind him that the sun would rise after each night of his strength.