Everyone thought she was better.
That the scars on her body,
would fade and that would be that,

They never for one second,
thought she would lose herself,
in the dark maze of depression,
once again,

They never believed,
that there would be fresh cuts,
littering her arms,

They never realised,
she would never,
get better,

That she’d always find herself,
in this spiraling vortex,
known as depression,

They thought she was better,
and so did she,
But oh how wrong they were,

Because you see,
Depression never really goes away.

It just lets you think that,
so you’re unprepared,
for when it strikes back,