My Depression

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.