My depression is silent,
It never yells,
It never screams
It only whispers.
My depression is the only thing,
That I know will always be there,
My depression is no longer a feeling,
It is more of a person,
Almost a friend,
My depression is always there when I am lonely
Begging me to eat a tub of ice-cream
Or to get some sleep,
Because I \'need it\'
My depression doesn’t need a clean room
Because everything is where it is supposed to be
School books in the left corner on top of my painting.
Skipping rope under the bundles of wool,
Photos of people who used to love me,
Buried under the towers of washing,
Wishing never to be found.
My depression doesn’t ask for much
But when it does
It asks for things I cant physically give
It whispers sweet nothings
That cut deeper than knifes
It ties knots in my throat
And chains me to my bed in the morning
It steals me
But maybe I let it
Because it is easier to do everything
When you feel nothing
Its easier to live
When you are only
Existing.