You wear the mentally ill on a sash around your body and your heart on your sleeve screaming "everybody look at me I want to die"  
using it for dollar signs acting like an  advocate but you couldn't hold hands with sympathy even if it dug it's picket sign into your vertebrae
Mental illness is mightier than the sword; or you'd like to think anyway.

It is not your title it is not your fame mental illness wasn't written on your birth certificate in place of your name
You didn't open your mouth for the first time for in place of a cry be a poem about depression that ironically rhymes
You can't possibly praise yourself for sleeping for days and waking up to realize everything is exactly the same.

I'm glad that you're coping but how much better can it be when you wear a smile with teeth made of OCD.

"When I grow up I wanna be a mental disorder" and you sculpted your craft, i bet it's exciting to build your delusions a life raft.

If I peeled back your layers all I would find is all of your ailments standing in a spotlight. A collective of people trying to be defined by every single problem they've had in their life.
How much depth could you all even hold when the hour glass is running thin on your throne made of unstable gold?

Pain is beauty and I get that but don't act like you're better than me just because you like being sad.

3 blind mice they play with a gun.
Don't worry about this poem though, we'll all be fine.
Mental illness is not my name, but i wrote this with mine.