Where They Check
They check your wrists,
But not your thighs,
They'll never see behind your lies,
That always whisper from your lips,
They also never check your hips.
They don't know what you do,
Everyday they yell at you,
Nobody will ever see,
The pain you really feel hides on your knee.
They won't see until your days are done,
They'll realize you were one,
Of the people who had to cut their skin,
Who knew your life would be so grim?
They see your cuts as you lie,
On the morgue hidden deep inside,
Now death has knocked at your door,
And dragged you alone deaths bloody floor.
Your mother cries,
You're farther is silent,
If only you hadn't been so quiet.
Now you will never know,
The pain you cause once you go,
You've left you family all alone,
You chose death,
So down you go.
YOU ARE READING
To Be Depressed
Non-Fiction"If you think about being happy, you'll be happy." "Don't be so pessimistic!" "Everyone else can get through it, why can't you?" "Attention seeker!" You trying feeling like this then, if it's so easy... This is just my views on depression, a "taboo"...
