(!Warning! Talks about self-harm)
Depression is a black pit in your chest, consuming you from the inside until you're nothing.
It's sitting in your bathtub, having a mental break down for unknown reasons.
It's starring at the bottle of melatonin pills and wondering how many you would have to take to never wake up.
It's the feeling of a knife, slicing through the skin on your wrists.
It's not wanting to get out of bed.
It's not eating.
It's smiling and telling everyone you're fine.
It's constantly feeling tired.
It's cutting until your arms are so covered in scars you can't see your skin.
It's swallowing any pills you can get your hands on.
It's the numb feeling in your brain when you wake up in the hospital.
It's the mental hospitals.
It's the worried looks from your family.
It's the insomnia
Depression is scary.
YOU ARE READING
Written in Pretty Letters
Poetry"Fly," you say as you clip my wings and chain my feet. Even as your high expectations try to chain me to the ground, I find a way. Fly, you said, but I chose to soar.
