Poems from the Hurt

Depression

There are days you are so sad
You forget what it's like not to be
You forget that all days aren't so bad
You forget what it means to be happy
Can you even be happy?

You can't explain yourself
And you shouldn't have to
Because what you are really trying to explain is the anxiety and depression eating you away
Or maybe it already has
And now it really is you
But you can't tell, because it doesn't allow you to

But the thing is, when you do try to explain what's happening to you
Everything that you feel, or maybe that you don't feel at all
No one understands, or at least not the people you want to
Yet, they are on high demand
Seeking answers you do not have
Like, "when did you start feeling this way?"
"I am sorry to you and to me, because I don't remember," you say
"It feels like I've always felt this way."
Pain has its own time zone
It is a place where time holds no course or structure
24 hours feels like 24 years
But you can't tell, because pain feels like an eternity
But you know it hasn't been long, because you haven't really aged
How do you explain perpetual sadness?
How long is forever?
Because it feels like it's never going to end
There is no end.
And you hate when people say it gets better
You've heard it too many times before
What you want to know is—when?
When does it get better?
Because you've been waiting a damn long time for it to
They say you won't always feel this way
But how do they know?
Because what they don't know is that I always feel this way