This Thing Called Depression

I fall asleep

with tears running down my face.

my pillow case and the walls of my room is where I share my deepest confessions to.

To not deal with the day that's already gone bad.

I close my eyes

not hoping but somewhat hoping it is my last

"it looks like she's peacefully asleep"

but really this girl is not.

Inside, there is an abundance of chaos running around freely.

grabbing on to every sad and hopeless memory that it can find.

holding on to the wrongs I've made.

"it's too much for me to handle"

I say.

I am oppressed by the impression of depression.

with more tears running down my face knowing I have it

hoping others won't notice.

because god forbid someone finds out because

then the whole town will know it.

but I know, I know it will get worse and worse until

I feel like I will cry every day at every hour, and it kind of feels like a curse.

with depression locking me down with its tight chains

holding me down to my bed crying for help.

As the chains get tighter and tighter and I can't break free

I get the courage to say "please"

"oh dear please, Oh the walls of my room please listen to me

I've suffered enough of this awful loop. I just want out.

Why can't I get out? Not even out my room.

I can't eat, only just sleep. why can't this pain just go away? My stress increases, but my focus decreases. I'm failing in school because of this terrible disease. I can't do anything right. What is this thing that is holding me back for dear life?"

The door began to squeak, thinking this was me. I curled up back into a ball.

but after a while, I look up.

Without knowing its name, as if he has done this before,

He came and walked through the doors of my room.

and said,

"Hi, I'm this thing called Depression and I'm here to stay..."