Hello Death, 
My old friend its been a long while, but I knew I'd see you again. You crawled back to embrace me as if I were a child fresh from the womb who need to be swaddled and held. With you and depression, any type of love and happiness can be felled. Odd enough, you are comforting, like warm words from a mother, you draw me closer and closer hoping to claim another. So tempting, yet I push away, your pull of relaxation getting stronger and stronger each day, until... Here I am. Speaking to you again, looking you dead in the face, your cold steely feeling on my temple, the weight of you in my palm as you press against me. You are shiny, and grey, full of lead, and when you turn angry and violent, you spit yourself out. Lead. Right before this angry attack you click twice like a mother in disappointment. After the clicks, it's a yell then silence. Blood soaked clothes and a hole in the wall. But yet, something pulls me away from your embrace, and begs me to stay, and so, Death, I have to say, I take my leave, so I can conduct my pet peeve. I want to think. 

You're close friend- Shane