I sat on that couch,
Sipping tea that made me gag, too sweet,
Feeling the the small blade in my back pocket,
Weighing me down, pulling me in,
And I cried.

"You're not depressed"
How would you know how I feel?
"Just a hormone imbalance"
You're not a doctor... I've only said a sentence.
I only said Four Words
I
Think
I'm
Depressed

You don't know the numbness drawing me in
You don't know how I can't feel my wrists
You don't know I'm almost constantly nauseous
You don't know how I wake up in the middle of the night crying
You don't know how I shake uncontrollably in fear when I think
You don't know how I can't look in the mirror without hating what I see
You don't know how I scream into my pillow, scared of myself and terrified of everything else

You just don't know.

How can you?

you are the smoke to my fire
the book to my tea
the warm to my soft
you are the only one i want
the only hope i have.

you are the cold to my bitter
the stormy to my dark
the meaning to my life
you are the best thing that has ever happened
my secret yearning.

you are the red to my black
the emo to my punk
the beautiful to my cute
you are the one thing i love most in the world
my evah