I used to think it was normal

To cry for three hours about nothing.

That it was normal

To think about dying at least once a day.

But that was before my fingers

Decided to tap away at a keyboard

Asking for the reasons why.

 

As always a complacent screen replied

Telling me all the things

I didn’t want to know,

All the things I feared.

Looking at that screen felt

Like a punch to the throat.

Feeling dejected

I decided to reject it

And keep it at the back of my mind.

There is no way I could have depression.

I thought to myself

It must be a lie

 

But despite my repression

I lived in a constant state of fighting off tears.

That empty look on my face

Was never really empty.

It was a curtain, a curtain

That shielded others from the gruesome battle going on behind it.

Monsters endlessly fought in my mind,

They tore at each other’s skin

Their blood gushing out into pools

Neither side ever faltering.

 

This hidden battle tore me away from others.

Swearing myself to secrecy

I battled alone.

 

I remember lying on the bathroom floor

The cold tile pressing against my cheek

Irrational tears rolling down my face,

And I thought to myself

“Why am I crying?”

I didn’t know.

So I kept going.