Depression

This is the sound of depression.
The sound of your mother yelling at you to clean your room up for the tenth time this week.
The sound of a blade engraved in your skin.
Your pencil scribbling down your intense thoughts.
The sound of the monster screaming you're not good enough.

This is the feeling of depression.
The sinking feeling of pain in your stomach.
The monster tickling the bottom of your spine so you get chills.
The feeling someone just broke up with you, but instead of getting this feeling once, you get this feeling once an hour.
You're father calling you a worthless **** and how you react to it.

This is the taste of depression.
The taste of blood.
The taste of ***** in your mouth because you can't keep your food down.
The taste of regret, the taste of sadness, the taste of hurt.
This is the taste of sadness.
The flavor of pain.
This is the taste of discomfort.

This is the smell of depression.
The smell of a dead body wafting through the vents.
*****.
Your dead body ******* itself.
This.
This is the reeking smell of depression.

This is the look of depression.
You not showering for your third week straight.
Engraved poetry in your wrist.
You almost hitting someone and everyone staring at you as you slowly lose your ****.
You losing 20 pounds in 1 week.
Not by purpose but not really by accident.
it just... wasn't the top of the depression priority list


this is depression.