"You're not depressed," your ignorant mind speaks
Telling me there's no proof
Not a single piece of evidence
That I am depressed

Excuse me?
What proof is necessary?
Do you want me to ramble on about the days I cried alone
In my bedroom comforting my own?
Do you want me to discuss the many ways I harmed myself?
I cut, I scratched, I picked at my flesh
I bit, I smacked, I punched myself
Bruising my skin so sore
That I felt it as I walked

Do you want me to tell you about my suicidal ideation?
Thoughts and prompts of firearms, pills, and suffocation
And how to use it effectively
On myself?

Do you want me to tell you how worthless I felt?
That I punished myself for every tiny mistake
And never felt worthy in others' presences
That I can hardly keep eye contact
Because I'm so self-conscious?

Tell me, what proof do you need?
Because I know **** well
I'm depressed
I feel it pulsing through my mind, heart, and soul
I feel it picking at my heart
As if I'm an instrument
I feel it with every thought
That comes to my mind
I feel it with every step I take
And every breath I inhale

How is that for evidence?