Today,
one of my friends told me
'you look different.'

At first,
I didn't take note;
I was messed up and it's just one of those things;
I didn't have my glasses
and my hair looked different to how I usually style it.
'no,' she said, 'it's not that...'
but,
then I heard it again;
'you look different.'

I didn't know what else to say but;
'that's the second time I've heard that this morning! ha ha',
laughing off the funny coincidence.
I asked her what was different,
but she too couldn't say...

No one could tell me what it was,
but everyone I asked,
they all said it,
all of my closest friends
and someone I barely know anymore.

'you look different.'

and,
I was talking to my friend about it,
when I jokingly said;
'well maybe I'm just happier than usual! ha ha'
but she looked kinda sad.
My other friend said
'wait, relax your face',
so I did.
'yeah, that's it!'

'you look different.'

'no,' I thought 'you just aren't used to seeing me happy'

For me, depression is walking across the street without looking both ways.
It's sitting in a car wishing an accident would come, wishing you would be the only casualty.
It's cooking everything despite not wanting to, eating everything in sight just because there's a slim chance of dying from poison.
It's staying out in the rain and never moving, staring in the distance. Waiting for a branch to knock me unconscious.
It's staying up till dawn knowing you have to be up early the next day.
It's zoning out at random intervals because you have no energy anymore.
It's staying in your room unless necessary.
It's staying in bed until life comes knocking at the door.
It's losing inspiration on things you previously liked.
To me, these are the meaning of depression.

a striking slice along the creamy white
freckle galaxy that is my thighs

is this what i've become?

a dab of crimson, slow pour at first
then a scarlet waterfall, perfect picture of my pain.

why did i do this

throbbing pain, dulling my senses
my mind is numb, almost at ease.

it hurts, i knew it would

gently easing cotton over wound,
bittersweet burgundy blood, feeding into pristine purity

what have i done

you're not your hair:
you can cut it dye it curl it straighten it shave it bend it twist it;

you're not your face:
you can hide it under layers of make-up you can put on lenses you can change your face in a matter of minutes;

you're not your skin:
you can cut it draw on it bite it tear it;

you're not your body:
you can lose weight gain weight;

you're not your clothes:
strip them off;

never reduce
yourself
to
a colour
a number
an adjective
a noun

never reduce
yourself
to a simple
word

you are
the thoughts you have at 3 a.m.
the lame jokes you tell your friends
the art you create
the books you read
the pages you have dog-eared
the quotes you have highlighted
the coffee you never finished drinking
the movie you watch after midnight, wrapped in a blanket
the chocolate cake you ate that night with that girl
the slice of pizza you could've eaten but you gave to your best friend
the kiss that still burns on your lips
the cigarettes that sting in your lungs long after you smoked them
the dreams you dream
the worlds you build in your mind
the song that's stuck in your head
the moments you're in the shower
the iloveyous
the ikindaguessilikeyous
the icareforyous
the seeyoulaters
the words you say
the smiles you smile
the laughs you laugh
the loves you love
the hates you hate

you are
an entire universe:
you're stars
and planets
and galaxies
and asteroids
and comets

you are a cosmos
trapped in
a shell.

you are
a gazillion worlds
locked in
a human cage.

never think
of yourself
as of
anything
less.

Do nothing
Feel nothing
Be nothing
Then we can never get hurt
No chances taken
No risks weighed
And absolutely nothing gained
But nothing lost
All the same

Do you ever get that feeling,
You know the one I mean,
The one you can’t describe
Not even in your wildest dreams.

It kind of feels like drowning
While simultaneously watching yourself drown,
But there’s nothing you can do,
Just watch your body slowly sink down.

Or maybe it feels like...
Your stomach is full of lead,
Your knees are constantly buckling
And a baseball bat to the head.

Do you ever get that feeling,
You know the one I’m talking about,
When your breathing is shallow
And you’re full of self-doubt.

The constant storm of thoughts
That seem to take over your brain,
Overthinking every moment
Until it drives you insane.

Or the feeling you get
When your friend confides in you,
And tells you how
There’s nothing you can do.
Because the deed has been done,
And she’s trying to move on,
But you can’t simply forgive
An act that’s so wrong.

Do you ever get that feeling?
You know the one I mean,
The one that eats you alive
And makes you want to scream.

Sometimes I hurt myself,
Sometimes I cut myself,
Let the blood pour out,
Let the pain flourish,

Sometimes I burn my arm,
Blushing burns on my cold caucus,
Scaring it, every mark a ventilation,
Sometimes I hit my head
Smash it against the wall,
Still the demons remain,
And still I do not change,

Sometimes I imagine something new,
Sometimes I imagine ending it too,
You see all these terrible things I do,
It’s because Sometimes, I think of you.

But we all have bad habits.

i don’t like what i see in the mirror
because i am nothing more than an ugly mess.

tired eyes
flabby tummy and big thighs
self harm scars
and layers of skins enough to hide my confidence.

i don’t like my reflection.
i don’t like them at all.

i was told that i was perfect the way i am
but then they would tell me
“maybe if you lose weight a little bit more
you could get rid of that chubby cheeks and double chin”.

so i skipped breakfast,
and lunch,
and dinner,
and sometimes i lose control and puke all the way out.
my throat would burn but i felt victorious.

and just like that i spend days and weeks and months and every moments counting calories that will flow down inside this mouth
one hundred
two hundred
not more than three
or else their terrifying gazes will speak to me and say
“ew, disgusting.”

i hate my reflection and i dislike my being
because who would have loved a person like me,
a person with self love the size of a teardrop?

and then they told me again that i don’t have to go on diet because i’ve got the body of Victoria’s Secret’s models

but again,
why would he left me for a girl
well,
she has smaller wrist, bigger chest and she’s always alive
i don’t blame him though
i am really not enough, right?

because anyone can say those three words
and anyone can say you’re perfect
as long as you fit their idea of perfection

i am no goddess and i know my place

but maybe
just maybe
someday,
i will finally be enough.

I’m happy
(I’m depressed)

I love myself
(I hate myself)

I can’t wait to live my life
(I can’t wait to die)

I am lucky to have my friends
(why do they even like me?)

I have a family who loves me
(and I continue to disappoint them)

I am an excellent student
(I can’t focus in school)

I want to travel the world
(will I even live to do that?)

I’m fine
(I’m not fine)

I’m perfectly okay
(please help me)

One day morning,
The birds are chirping.
The flowers are blooming.
I say "Hi" to my friends
Laugh with them.
One day morning
I am okay.

That day afternoon
The sky turns to gray
Cold wind blows
Rain starts to fall
I don't want to see my friends
That day afternoon
I'm not okay.

That evening night
No moon shining
No stars twinkling
I am ignoring my friends calls
I just cry for no reason
I feel empty, I feel nothing
That evening night
I know I'm not gonna be okay

But,

That evening night
I'm still wishing to be okay.