Colorful clothes are fine
Nice people are too.
But somehow blissful words
Still make me melancholy.
The darkness I feel
Devourers me and myself.
The voices I hear,
Are they mine or yours?
Morning, night and day
“You’re not good enough. Go away.”
I can’t run away,
But it’s too painful to stay.
My face can’t fall,
But inside I’m tattered.
Tired, worn and shattered.
I am still here.
I’m just that smiling doll
That seems to just disappear.
I wrote this for a LA project on depression. It was one of those choose your own kind of project. I've also been more depressed than normal and so that leads to this sorta stuff.
