She walks in the door,
The chimes matching her steps-
Walks lightly to the counter
Where her fingers dance their reps.

She orders in a broken voice,
Raspy and rugged as hell,
Her cheeks are red with cold,
Her stoney eyes have tales to tell.

She sits at the corner table,
Wide eyes analyze the world;
She's listening in on other's words,
A quite peculiar girl.

She's only tables away,
Drinking her coffee void of cream,
Black as the paint that polished her nails;
Like a stranger from a dream.

She makes me lose my concentration;
I've stopped trying to look at my screen.
Everything she does intrigues me,
This severely different teen.

My desires fill my consciousness,
All I want is to say "hi",
But how she intimidates me so,
It would come out as but a cry.

Suddenly she rises to her feet,
Then slinks over to the door,
She stops and says she saw my stare,
And then she's gone forevermore.

What are you doing?
How could you do that?
What were you thinking?
Dead eyes, blind gaze, blinking.
So. Many. Questions.
Lies upon lies as replies.
An endless web being spun in my head.
But everyone lies right?

You all think I'm crazy.
Get out of my life,
You're all nothing.
Lie!
Lie and say you're trying,
trying to help.
I know you'd rather die.
You're losing an uphill battle.

You'll never break me.
I'll never give in.
I can't be cured;
Because nothing is wrong with me.
You're the mental ones.
At least my lies are justified.
I'm content.
You. Are. Not.

I'll keep my conscience as my company, thanks.
For who would I phone?
Everyone is incapable of understanding.
No sir, I prefer to be alone.
Stop trying to relate before you start.
My heart is too cold and it's just useless.
You're useless.
Everything is useless.

Go, try and take me on the guilt trip.
I've been down that road before.
It's more boring than the person in the drivers seat;
Who's telling me of the greatest battles, fun facts, and feats.
Face hits the concrete.
Sorry, I think I fell asleep.
Your troubles do not concern me.

Why should I care about you?
I'm not you.
I wont sympathize, empathize, step behind your eyes;
To see your lies, your struggles
They're YOURS!
Not mine.
Stop crying, you're fine.
A few drops of blood wont **** ya.

Go ahead,
Complain some more.
Complain about how horrible your life is to everyone.
Complain about how nobody gets you.
Post pictures of yourself crying on Facebook.
Retweet every tweet from @depressedkids.
Brag about all your "appointments".
Storm off in a fit because you just hate the world so much.
Wear 17 bracelets on one arm to hide ONE little cut.

YOU.
You are the reason nobody takes depression seriously.
Take a look around; maybe then you'll open your ******* eyes and see.
YOU are not the only one.

Is it wrong to be scared to have children?
Of raising them on this bitter, bloodthirsty planet?
Where their voices will be muted,
and “more important” matters disputed,
so they'll feel useless, irrelevant, or null.
I am truly terrified to have children,
who will be reduced to simplicity by this world.
Though individuality may come in flashes,
anything colourful will be burned to ashes,
And the sparks of identity lost.
But then I remember they'd be my children,
So their voices would surely be heard.