I want to help,
talk to me,
I can help you.
Depression rates are increasing,
Will you be the next victim?
Depression can cause you to feel
numb,
broken,
alone,
scared,
unloved,
or unwanted
Depression can tear you into a trillion little pieces
and scatter you all over the floor
Others don't help clean up,
Instead, they walk all over you,
they push you to the side,
hide you in a
trashcan....
They tell you that you're trash,
you tell the mirror.
They tell you no one wants you,
You tell the mirror.
They tell you that you are nothing,
you tell the mirror.
They tell you that you are nothing,
you tell the razor.
They tell you that you are worthless,
you tell the red stained water.
They tell you that you are nothing,
you tell the doctor.
They tell your mom that they were so so close to you,
you tell God it's a lie...
Depression is hurting
our souls,
our hearts,
our physical bodies.
Are you next?
Talking helps.
Talking hurts.
Talking is overwhelming.
But you have to do it.
Pick up the scrapes,
glue them together,
find peace with yourself.
Understand that you have to want to be helped in order for ANYONE to help you.
Understand that you can be glued back together.
Yes, there are scars, but they show others what you have
gone through,
dealt with,
survived.
You can survive,
because right now, you are still here reading this poem.
Aug 19, 2020
Aug 19, 2020 at 5:09 PM UTC
I want to help,
talk to me,
I can help you.
Depression rates are increasing,
Will you be the next victim?
Depression can cause you to feel
numb,
broken,
alone,
scared,
unloved,
or unwanted
Depression can tear you into a trillion little pieces
and scatter you all over the floor
Others don't help clean up,
Instead, they walk all over you,
they push you to the side,
hide you in a
trashcan....
They tell you that you're trash,
you tell the mirror.
They tell you no one wants you,
You tell the mirror.
They tell you that you are nothing,
you tell the mirror.
They tell you that you are nothing,
you tell the razor.
They tell you that you are worthless,
you tell the red stained water.
They tell you that you are nothing,
you tell the doctor.
They tell your mom that they were so so close to you,
you tell God it's a lie...
Depression is hurting
our souls,
our hearts,
our physical bodies.
Are you next?
Talking helps.
Talking hurts.
Talking is overwhelming.
But you have to do it.
Pick up the scrapes,
glue them together,
find peace with yourself.
Understand that you have to want to be helped in order for ANYONE to help you.
Understand that you can be glued back together.
Yes, there are scars, but they show others what you have
gone through,
dealt with,
survived.
You can survive,
because right now, you are still here reading this poem.
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