They called her depression
Not for the way her long hair trailed limply behind her
Or for the way her boney hands shook
They called her depression
Because her empty grey eyes followed you
Because her blue nails were chipped and brittle
Because every time she brushed her hair clumps would fall out
They called her depression
Because she wasn't a girl
She was her disease
She was a ghost
She was a skeleton
She wasn't human
They called her depression
Until
One day
She said she wanted to die
"Ah, we'll call her suicidal than"
They mindlessly bobbed their heads in confirmation
Suicidal
They liked that name
They called her suicidal
Because every time her sleeve fell up
Deep scars and gashes were visible
They called her suicidal
Because her grades fell
Her ambitions fell
Her emotions disappeared
They called her suicidal
And the day she was found
Two identical slashes on each arm
Nobody was surprised
They use to call her depression
But they don't call her anything now