Erased

 Sometimes I write because it helps me cope with my depression. Sometimes I write because I want to share my thoughts and opinions with the rest of the world. Sometimes I write because I think it might be a skill at which I’m halfway decent. Most of the time I write because I’m afraid if I don’t I may take my own life one night, while crying myself to sleep alone in my bed. And no one that matters to me will even remember me, much less care that I died. I fear every memory of me on this planet will be instantly and permanently erased.