Depression

Prim and proper I remain for the public it seems
And dirty and forgotten behind closed doors
You see it's okay to be a mess in privacy, to mourn your will to live alone
Forget asking for help
I have tried alcohol and drugs
Happiness really can't be bought
Silly, fickle heart...
Did you really believe you could beat me?

This poem is about: 
Me

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If You Need Support

If you ever need help or support, we trust CrisisTextline.org for people dealing with depression. Text HOME to 741741