I know it looks like I'm okay
but I only advertise the parts of me to the world I want others to see
you don't see me in my desperation
in my sweat riddled bed I can barely lay on--
so much is taken up by depression my body doesn't fit
I haven't showered in two weeks
there are dishes in my bath tub soaking
they've been there for weeks
I tell myself I'm going to clean them
so I can clean myself
instead I'm in my bed riddled with crumbs and empty wine bottles
ashes have painted the pink sheets black
I'm self medicating and it isn't helping
but it's the only thing I can bring myself to do
I'm not okay
I don't know how to tell you that
or how to make you understand