I sit here wearing my perfection suit,
Crying for no understandable reason,
But society doesn't see this,
I cry behind my suit,
Inside my secret world,
In a deserted island,
With shores so high there is no rocket that could reach the land,
With an impenetrable castle,
Inside a small room in the centre,
I sit here hidden from society and I cry,

I cry scared of the judgements filled into my tiny ****** life,
I get up wondering why,
I go to bed staying awake digging a hole of thought to tomorrow,

"But you don't have depression" They convince me for another day,
I'll stay up tonight drawing blood with a pencil,
Writing down my imperfections on my skin,,
If my parents see they assume I'm just copying the rest of society,

So I try to wear my perfection suit,
I'm finding it hard when thoughts are everywhere,
Even with the loudest of music doesn't work anymore,

Bridges scare me now every time I step on one my gears in my head start spinning,
I throw up over the railings unable to hold my emotions in,
I run home as my depression grows and begins tearing my perfection suit apart,
All of those people staring at me,
Judging me and my imperfections,

I run across the street hoping,
Empty,
I run on faster getting rid of the joy of ending it all today,
I run into my house and up to my room,
Alone,

The doctor hands me pills,
I take the bottle and as I leave I place it back on the counter,
So mush me with drugs, therapy, yoga, dance, you can't make my disease go away,
It has infected me,
I am stained with thoughts that will never go away,
So to whom ever tries to "minimize" depression,
Leave them be you only make them think deeper every time you say a word.