Concealed depression is
Buying water proof mascara
So you won't have to reapply makeup
after each daily breakdown.

Concealed depression is
Laughing at everything
so they won't question
why your eyes always water.

Concealed depression is
staying up until 4 a.m
because it's the only time
you can ignore the world
and no one will notice.

...Or concealed depression is
taking three melatonins
in hopes you'll sleep deep
enough to keep the terrors at bay.

Concealed depression is
Staying consistently busy
So your mind will be too exhausted
at the end of the day to fight you.

Concealed depression is
the impatient selfish monster
that burns bridges as you cross them.

Concealed depression is
feeding yourself lies like
"I'm fine" or "I won't cry".

Concealed depression is
the uphill battle that you don't get to win once;
it's a mountain you're forced to climb every single day.

Concealed depression is
silently screaming, hoping someone
will have super sonic hearing,
swoop in like a bat,
and carry you under their wings.

Concealed depression is
never hugging too tightly
or meeting a gaze too intensely
in case your guts may slip
out before you can catch them.

So when they accuse you of changing,
when they accuse you of rage and indifference,
of violence and apathy,
when they ask why you never called,
when they ask why you never told them,
all you can say is that concealed depression
is like an overbooked hotel and there's only room for one.
All you can say is that you were afraid
Your darkness would drown them too
and then there would be no one left to save you.

no, I'm not talking about the ones with big noses
or greasy hair

not the ones with bad breath
or round bellies

no, I just like them raw
a little broken, a little sad

the ones with scars
a story to tell

I sure know how to pick em' you might say
but I'd never give them up any day

a whole adventure in a person like the outdoors
one with canyons and mountains he would let me explore
only ugly guys give themselves all at once
no parts hidden, everything is exposed

vulnerability is thought to be a weakness but in reality it's bold

I like ugly guys.

I think the reason
Broken people
Are always drawn
To other
Broken people
Is that they
See each other's missing pieces
And they're so aware of their own
Missing pieces.
And they think
"Maybe your pieces can go where mine did,
And mine can go where yours did,
And together
We can be almost whole."

But broken people
Aren't very good at being whole
When they've been broken for so long.
They don't know how to be anything
But broken.

So I end up pushing you away.
I push you far, far away from me.
Because even though I need you around,
And I desperately want you with me,
I don't know how to be whole
anymore.
And that's what you do.
You make me whole.

And I push you and push you and push you
But you don't leave.
Even though you have absolutely
Every reason to leave.
Even though no one would question it.
Everyone would understand it.
Most people would be more than supportive of it.

But instead, you stay.

And I don't know if I make you whole,
But I know that sometimes you push me away too.
Not as far.
You never push me away as far as I push you,

But I am always ready to leave.
Because I've already done the sticking-around-when-no-one-wants-me thing.
And I've learned that there's no chasing people.
If they want to leave,
They will leave,
And you cannot ever stop them.

And everyone leaves, sooner or later.

You can't make a person want you
And you can't make a person choose you.

And someone can want you every second of every day,
But if they don't choose you,
It doesn't matter.

That's what I've learned.

So when you push me away from you,
My instinct is to leave.
I've never really had an actual home
Or an actual family,
So leaving isn't actually hard for me.
As much as I want to stay right here,
In your arms forever,
Leaving is easy.
It's natural for me.
I never knew how to stay.
I've always been a run-away kind of person.
Besides, it never takes anyone long to move on from me.
I leave,
They move on,
Their lives are better.

The hard part isn't leaving, for me.
It's forgetting.
Because I don't forget,
I can't move on.

Everyone I've left,
Everyone that has left me,
I remember.
I remember the hurt.
I remember them.

I'm not afraid to leave
When you push me away
Because I know you'll move on quickly
And I know you'll be better off
When I'm gone.

But when I push you away
I'm always so scared you'll go.
Because I don't want to move on,
And I don't want you to think I'll just forget you.
Because I won't.
Because I can't.

And I know it hurts that I'm so quick to leave,
And I know that knowing that it's only because I'm so used to going
Doesn't make it better.

I'm going to try to stay,
Because you stay.
Because I won't ever forget you,
And I don't want you to forget me.

I used to think
That once you love someone--
And I mean really really
Love them,
With every part of you--
I think once you love someone,
Well...
You never really stop.

I wish to age like a wrap-around porch
In a thunder storm,
While generations tell tales,
Sipping drinks.
A porch of blinking stars,
A shelter out of rain,
With ascending and descending friends.

I will age like a tree,
Grow stronger in the wind;
Give shade and shelter to all
Beneath my ring-aged limbs.

I wish to age as a river bends,
Contiguous with all shores;
Floating everyone I know
On eternal waters,
A current winding with no rest.

I will age like a star,
Burning bright, giving light,
Something to reach for.

I wish to age like a mountain,
With secret caves and riches.
And you can rock your soul
Around, over or through,
Solid, snow-capped summit,
Beckoning you.

I will age as the moon,
In stages, full and new;
Each night different,
Unnoticeable fading,
As all who age will do.

I'm not me.
I may be you.
Or her.
Or him.
Or them.
But I'm not me.
My chest aches with the feeling of wanting to be belonged.
My heart aches with the feeling of wanting to be loved the way that I love.
My head aches because I want to scream.
While my bones turn to jelly, and my thoughts turn to suicide.
Everynight is long.
Everyday is tiring.
I wish you'd understand that my brain aches for something I don't believe I have.
You may think, that I am insane. Or considering I'm technically you, I may think I am insane.
These personalities swarm me, and I've never known myself.
Someone may love your laugh because it's unique. The way your nose cringed because of a smell. The way your eyes sparkle when you see something exciting.
Those are traits that make you .. you.
I'm swarmed. You have something to call you're own.
I'm not me. You have something to grow off of.
I may be you. You have something that people will love.
Or her. You have something people will come back for.
Or him. You have something that won't run.
Or them. You have something that makes you unique.
But I'm not me. You have something that I want.