There are some things that are not meant to be sugar coated
There are some things that are not suppose to be cleaned up and meant to look good
Do not sugarcoat the night you were ***** or the aftermath
Do not sugarcoat the nights you’ve taken a blade to your wrists
Do not sugarcoat the first time you downed ***** because your heart was broken
Do not sugarcoat when your parents hit you
Do not sugarcoat when your boyfriend absolutely destroyed you
Do not sugarcoat the reasons why you started using drugs
Do not sugarcoat vices
Do not sugarcoat pain
Do not sugarcoat suffering
Do not sugarcoat agony
Do not sugarcoat me”
— Some things should be sugarcoated. These are not it

Depression is hard to understand. The dictionary naively refers to it as, "feelings of severe despondency and dejection." But what does the dictionary know about depression? I think depression is more complicated than that. But I don't quite know what that consists of. I've been trying to figure it out for months now, and I just can't seem to understand. I don't know what depression is, but I can tell you what it's not.

Depression is not polite. Depression doesn't knock before he barges in. He just lets himself in, unannounced and unexpected, and leaves me gasping for what little air is left in the room.
Depression isn't clean. He doesn't tidy up after he makes a mess. He comes into my life like a hurricane, and leaves me to pick up the crumbled pieces of my rubbled life.
Depression isn't moral. He steals my happiness and kills my spirit. He doesn't abide by any common rules or laws, he makes his own rules and I have to play by them.
Depression isn't popular. The only "friends" he has are his victims. He drags me away from everyone who used to love me, and leaves me isolated in a cold, dark place.
Depression isn't respectful. He claws his way into the lives of so many genuine people and drives them to the brink of insanity. He has no regard for my thoughts or my feelings, stomping all over me until there's nothing decent left to salvage.
Depression isn't creative. He tells you everything as it is and makes you see all of the terrible things poisoning the world. He doesn't sugarcoat the truth, no matter how much it hurts, and he helped me clearly see even my smallest of flaws.
Depression isn't nice. He calls me ugly and tells me I'm worthless. The words he whispers ring in my ears: "**** yourself, **** yourself, **** yourself."

It's hard to define depression. It doesn't fit into a small box. I've practically driven myself crazy trying to figure out what it is and why this is happening to me. I don't understand depression, and no matter how hard I try to define it, I always fall short. I don't know if depression can ever be defined. While I try aimlessly to define the undefinable, depression ruthlessly takes advantage of me. I can try as much as I'd like, but I don't define depression, depression defines me.

People always seem to misunderstand me,
It's amazing how they can judge so quickly,
That's why I decided to always be the happy one,
The one to make jokes and everything seemed fun,
But what they don't know is that anxiety,
Floods through me.
How much I hold back from the things I really want

You see it's a cruel world out there
I learned how to people can stab you in the back and pretend to care,
How everything you do
is going to be judged by people who have no clue.

So I've learned to sugarcoat my opinions,
Hide behind a lie: a smile
Be the nice one in every situation
Someone who would go that extra mile

Still it wasn't enough,
In the end I was still misunderstood.
Even if my intentions were good
it still got twisted to some bad stuff.

So I just hold myself back
trying to save myself from all the heartache,
Avoiding the trouble my emotions would make
Sugar coating my opinions
In serious situations
Just drowning myself lyrics
Avoiding all the tricky topics

Yet once again they misunderstand me,
They come up with this version of my life story,
they'd assume I'm always lonely,
And honestly it makes me angry,
Because they don't even know me.

Around* the time
Both eyes
So fixated double-book
  Marked inside the
    fairytale
      *     *    
She spread her layers
Like the Bitter beauty
So truly ribbons curly
Like the beast changed
her fruit
Please come home soon

Trying to sugarcoat stars
My date with the moon wars
Silk thread My sweet Lord

Remembering the taste
A forever not forgotten
the beat wrong words may
get you both in heat

A glass of wine I love thee
Share the good eats
And pray "Mighty God" life is hard
So misleading silk heart of words
What was truly said
over again to repeat
The best silver playful
wings of white's
like a shrine all mine

The smile when your
the heart is the aching
Love didn't feel right
Those confessions
to play out the
innocent love dose night

He summons her on
Queen Antionette
Killing me softly

French silk pastry I love thee
Not to pry covering up the
commander

Layers he could smell
She's settling in
Like the splendor picnic
grass of fruit
What a big mouth
He has the perfect foot

It's her the Owl toot
The hard labor of words
Overlaid  like under
the weather maid
Finely crafted silk leather
Florence Italy boots

To fought out in every dip
of his fruit
Vegetables the envy
of the green planet of Kale
She was so jaded
Layering Silk Thine
It's time to be mated
The many layers of his smile
Shadowed over the windows
strangers enchanted by what they saw

Like Tomato vine silk
thine running away from love
There was note pulling them back
The longer you wait for
a double feature smack

Meeting the dark hawks
Nothing could stop her
When he talks wind blows
Magical silk tongue
drips overflow

Silk weave on his
white crisp shirt
His tears met my blouse
talk can be cheap but not
from your spouse

The bed looks like
the heart of science
The heart of silk birds
communicate to
the brain of buzzing bees
Missed the timeless
train____ on your knees

Whats more death do us part
Something took a beating
Eternal return to me meeting

I silk Thine or rose thorn for me
What about the day

You were born the sign
and meanings
The brain overworked
our hearts
Two newlywed blue worker collar

Like a citation scholarly
Turned into a citation court
order of traffic

Layering all his missteps
play up her lips
Easy for most play along
toe to toe ring
He's the Hub that bubbly wish
"English Yardley" sing
Style of writing waved
her in the tub

Whispering words
all layered like
a dark promise
She had a Blackout

Mercilessly another sip
Divine silk  Turkish coffee
All in the weave of
dark clouds
on his sleeve

Mom the dressmaker such a
miracle worker
Cleaning up secrets the tears so
many delicate sides of years

Mail order bride stargazer
  heart stopped when
he dressed her
Layering on Silk Thine
Mr. and Mrs. Valentine
Regine
Physiological mechanism
My silk of words theory
His beard heart stubble

What truly appeals
Meditation the truth heals
Sumptuous layered
strawberry
shortcake more
time too short

Her wavy hair in
his heart of palms
Swinging from the trees
Making such a ruckus

Her nerve ending
like a sad song story
Robin Birds bring
on the Morning Glory
Every September
Silk stir of wine
To see the thine
*Precious Silk Rose,
you had me
Star*

Watching the world
of poems light
Why "God"
Saying how come tonight
Or not tonight please make it
"Holy Night"

He loves the way
you look how you turn
your head
On the side
of his glide

Your sleeping in
his bed he
looks at you with
layers of sweetness

birthday cake ice cream
but you lost all your sprinkles
now just vanilla.

He stands like William Stanley Moore
a mugshot of an old gangster I saw once
in sepia, stony, strangely clarified, endowed
immortalized in caramel marble
glassy eyes and all--

he plowed ahead that night
fingers twitching, only to turn
around outside of the light
once we'd gone through
the doors and I'd fled down
the stairs in his wake
to clip his heels

I've been chasing his shadow
tying my lead to his bow
far away from my own
dock, a sailboat piping
behind a cottonclad warship

I am small and timid
soft and malleable, unwild
unwoven, strips of silk in the foyer
running through his fingers
sheets sliding down his back
I cannot give what other girls
have given, the way they
dive and plead and swarm
I can only coat, can only
rinse, only lather, I can only
run over--

I am standing at his bookshelf
running a finger over the spines
gingerly closing the cabinet or
slipping into his bed, tucked
away like a porcelain doll
I try
i try
i try

I have started this letter one hundred times. I have referred to you as my friend, my "cousin", my love. No term seems more right than brother, as you have grown with me, and we have lived our parallel lives. I have known you since the day I was born, and I will know you until the day I die. I have long since memorized each freckle on your face, each vein in your hand, each scar on your hip. I am saying this in the hopes that you will understand why it hurt so much when you looked me in the eye and told me to calm down.

As we skipped rocks in the river that runs past my house, you complained to me about the cousin with the crazy feminist ideals. I laughed it off, and tried to reason with you, trying to teach my dear brother a valuable lesson. That's when you stared at me, with those gorgeous, piercing eyes, and you said, "I know women think they don't have rights, but like...just calm down, okay?"

Not okay. It will never be okay. It can't be okay until boys like you stop ignoring our pain. Stop writing off our suffering as hormones and gossip. Stop telling us that our feelings are invalid.

You have always said that I was your little sister. As children, you were the first to teach me how to throw a punch, so I could take care of myself. You were the first to grab me by the hand and whisper, "I will never let anything happen to you."

If you wanted to protect me, if you wanted to love me, if you wanted me to have what you have, you would not ignore the hardships of myself and my sisters. You would not tell me I'm making it up. You would not tell me to calm down. You would not stop until everything really was okay.

I wonder how much you actually know about feminism, and how much you actually know about me. Once I thought you had memorized each piece I have given you, the way I have memorized every curve in your body, and every corner of your brain. I suppose, looking back, you never were the best listener.

The day before you came to me, angry about the unfairness of your parents. I would never say to you, "I know you think it's not fair but like...just calm down, okay?" When you came to me about your anxiety, I would never say, "I know you think it's hard, but like...just calm down, okay?" I would never ignore your words, would never patronize your pain, would never tell you to calm down.

Something inside of me has been broken ever since that day. The day that I realized that my big brother wasn't always the good guy. Some days, he's the villain. Most days, he's part of the problem.

I will always love you. You have been with me since my first breathe, and I'll be ****** if you're not there for my last. I will always listen, always hold you, always love you, always be here for you. But the one thing I refuse to do is dilute my anger for you. I will not sugarcoat my oppression, will not sweep away my sadness. I will not calm down.

And maybe, with you by my side, we could make things be okay.

I'm not going to lie to you and tell you there aren't any monsters,
Nor am I going to sugarcoat the facts,
People are monsters, kid.
Humanity is imaginary.
Everybody chewing each other's ears with horrible remarks,
Making glass eyes fall out with every piercing stare.
Skin breaking with each hit.

So I don't understand why we check for monsters beneath the bed,
When they are obvious,
All around us.
Causing suicide and death.
Allowing people to fill our head,
Our heart.

That's when the real damage starts.
The monsters possessing us.
Their strong magic,
So called love.
Strong force,
Squeezes our hearts and makes it pulse.
Causing cracks,
Until it rips out of our chest,
And finds a new home in who made it that way.

So yes, monsters are real.
They are in your classes,
And in your home.
They are passing you in the store,
And they are lying to you.

But the realist part about this,
Is you're a monster.
As am I.
We are all born this way.
Humanity is imaginary.
We are all monsters.

I am jiggling on that stage.
The egoless strut.
The humorous tap.
The spectacular trip.
Fall over,
over. and
Over
again.

Get up,
find a ballroom
Dancer.
Find a hand holding
Partner.
Play "Spice Up Your Life".
Spice Girls,
listen to the bridge.
tells you to Salsa.

Watch that scene.
Billy Elliot,
With the pianist.
Dancing Billy.
He loves it.
Just do it,
you love it too.

Cheesy pop,
You don't need to
embellish yourself.
No grace notes.
No flat 7th.
You don't need
to sugarcoat,
the truth.

Let loose to riddims.
live on the dancefloor.
Feel the *****,
and the reggae.
Feel the triplets.
Rocksteady your way.
Dancehall to sounds.
Bounce and echo.
Side to side.
Left to right.

And we'll slow it
right
down.
The ballad starts.

Your beautiful structure on the left of your head,
the one called the ear.
The that ear controls aural empathy.
Let love be the choreographer to your moves,
Play the concept album, your heart.
Place it onto the record player and watch it spin
Start the track track with an International groove.
End. Replay.

It was June and not summer,
Splashy, muddy, slimy,
wind-kissing roads of Chennai in sight,
I hear, "Jennifer, Jennifer."
Aloysius' wife answers in.
Break - in the movie, I sip my coffee.
Water was rising in the southernmost state of India,
Destruction or development,
Recovery or renovation,
Right words struggled to meet right arms,
Jennifer and Aloysius buffered in the background,
House I was not in was sinking.
I stopped watching snowflakes in the Americas,
Wished for a sun-feast in Kerala,
I lapsed to places sitting at the window pane,
Netflix didn't help the cultural fix.
here, thoughts succumbed, coffee mug dried up.
While uninvited ants,
swept my coffee off the sugarcoat...

I never knew we would bond instantly
From "just being friends" to "more than just friends"
Why did it even happen
I hope there'll be a time that we'll know why

I want to hold your hand so I won't let you go
I want to wrap you around my arms to keep you warm
I want to kiss you to comfort you from hurting
I want to hug you to protect you from harm

I mean what I say
I don't want to sugarcoat the reality
They may not notice what you've been through
But I do, believe me

I knew that I would say it before I wrote it
Cause I thought that we could be something
I wish that our hearts would synchronize its beat
I wish it could be us