There's nothing beautiful about depression.
wish I could turn this into a cute poem
but I can't.
hours turn to days
days turn to weeks
and every morning I am left fighting the same demons that tormented me the night before.
I am sick
I am tired
I am sick and tired of being sick and tired
I had enough of feeding my demons
and starving the woman in the mirror
when can I make her proud?
when is she going to stop feeling afraid?
They ask
they wonder
about my tattoo
they want to know what it means
let them ask
let them wonder
Would they understand
my fear
of the darkness that decorate my veins?
how do I explain to them
the hunger in my soul
the way it craves and longs for the light?
Another day of my feelings suffocating me
suffocating others
I feel everything
all too much
all at once
hold my tongue
I used to bright up the room with my laughter
I used to be the life of the party
I used to flirt and giggle my way through life
now I'm the thunderstorm
striking people with my cruel cold ways
the flowers I grew inside of me
wilt in my darkness
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