I've become used to laying my head down on a soggy pillow.
Tears rolling down my cheek are as insignificant as a blink.
Nobody asks about the red that blankets my eyes or my poor attempt to cover the blotching of my skin.
I've become oblivious to the numbness of my body.
My heart beats the same even with cold blood pumping through my veins, no love or emotion able to enter the shield over my skin to warm the organs inside me.
Depression has simply settled in and I am a passenger in my own body, sat beside anxiety and comforted by my own self loathing.
Depression is decaying my body. Leaving my mind trapped in my own emotionless carcass.
I've become used to being somebody else.
I've become used to not feeling anything at all.
