My darkness

Black People Don't Get Depressed

Black people don't get depressed

But wait, what about the black people who are depressed

The ones with despair bubbling in their throat

And tears burning hot in their eyes

Tears that aren't supposed to fall

Heads tilting back to keep the hot liquid from slipping down a quivering cheek

Black People don't get depressed

What if I were to say that I was depressed

What would you do

If you knew there was darkness crawling through me

Clouding my vision

Stealing my breath

Taunting me as I try to sleep

Could you handle it

Knowing that every day I fought to keep quiet

With the pleas of help ripping at my throat

Scratching its way out

Wanting to be heard,

For once in a world were my sadness is taboo

But like you said Black People don't get depressed

Black people don't get anxiety

But yet I'm gasping for air every time I'm in a crowded room

Shaking every time I have to speak to someone new

Talking myself out of living a life outside of my room

But Black people don't get anxiety

Nor can they get depressed

But I'm here living with scars that wrap around my arm

Horizontal lines that coat my thigh

As I struggle to not pick up that blade

My need to see that blood slowly bead up on top of my skin

But I have to tell myself Black people don't get depressed

Even as my arm begins to pulse and burn from the heat of the skin being torn open

Skin that has been sliced open so that I could feel in control

Skin that will be left just a little discolored

Skin that I will have to lie about any time someone asks what happened

Skin that I run my fingertips over to feel the jagged bumps that have been left in the aftermath

But maybe you're right Black people don't get depressed

Maybe because you can't see that you are looking at a broken and depressed girl

I sit in front of you the perfect example of why black people do get depressed