Over (Depression Poem)

We all want freedom.

But not just the typical

'I need to get away from my parents'

and

'they never let me do anything' freedom.

Now, let's get something straight.

There are four types of people in this world.

This fucked up world...

There are the 'perfections'.

Those who can do whatever they want.

Who think they can can away with anything

and they typically do.

They basically have everything in life

handed to them on a golden platter.

They are reckless

while all at the same time

they receive no punishment or repercussions

because they can talk their way out of it

or use their fake plastic bodies

to seduce their way out of sticky situations.

There are the 'misguided' kids

as they tend to be called

although that isn't exactly what they are.

They are the kids

who complain

about their life

being difficult

that they can't ever get what they want

and that they never get to do anything

when in reality

they are just as spoiled as the 'perfections'

they just never get enough

of what they wanted.

So in attempt

to get more of what they want

they crave attention.

This can appear in many forms

fighting

crying

yelling

self harm

and they go to the extremes

to get what they crave.

They self diagnose depression

but its their way of getting attention as well

There are the 'normals'

who, as the label suggest,

lead normal lives.

They don't always get what they want

but they are happy with life.

And who could ever forget

the 'clinically depressed' kids.

It can be difficult to tell the difference

between these kids,

and the 'misguided' kids,

but rest assured,

there are major differences .

In attitude, for example.

The 'clinically depressed'

sometimes aren't happy with life

although it could

in reality

be perfect as well.

But unlike the misguided,

they don't complain

or ask for more

or crave attention.

They stay hidden

locked away in their room

late at night

doing one of two things.

Either burrowed into a pile of blankets,

thinking about how much

they hate their lives

thinking that they are nothing

and that the world

would be better off without them

Or they would act upon their thoughts.

Late at night

when everyone is asleep

they would clutch

the sharp piece of metal

tight in their palm

deciding which area of skin

to stain red with blood.

With each and every drag

of the metal against their skin

they would think

i'm worthless

they would think

about everybody who made them feel that way

and how triumphant they would feel

if they found out

that the weak kid is slowly taking

their own life away.

These kids try to hide everything from everybody

they put on a smiling face

that nobody could see past.

They are able to keep everything under wraps

and nobody would know

their little secret

until it was too late

and everyone was crying at their service.

Although

they probably wouldn't think anybody would cry over them

after all

everybody called them worthless.

We all want different forms of freedom

and for those who are clinically depressed

freedom

is not just

having the ability to just do something

those people

they consider their freedom

letting go

and ending it all

that way, they won't have to deal with

those douchebags telling them to off themselves everyday

or the jokes and snickering

behind their back

all they want for freedom

is eternal peace

that can be achieved by

dragging that dull blade

across their wrist

over and over

until it is

over.