You see these little lines?
You stop to think what those are from.
You think you know but you're unsure.
You want to ask but you know what it's like.
We don't talk about it.
You know they aren't just scars.
You know they're the demons I fought
at 3 a.m.
You know they are my deepest insecurities & fears.
You know want to ask but you know what it's like.
We as people never wanted to feel this.
No one understands unless they know what those little lines are.
You don't have to ask because you know exactly what they are.
You are, I am, we are...
depression.