Depression Poems

This Is The End

I've already tried too hard;

Living up to your expectations,

I've been fake from the start.

You know the answers to your questions.

Knifes and blades may pierce my skin,

And words, will always hurt me.

Everything seems so dim,

Is this how I'll always be?

Drowning in a sea of eyes,

A painful pang at my heart,

No one hears my pain-filled cries,

How the hell did this start?

Pretty pictures, drawn on my skin;

The markers bled through the page,

Causing a silent commotion; 

A mob of those enraged. 

I'm starting to fade away.

I'm back to coloring.

Once they find out, they don't stay,

The urge is smothering.

The darkness sucking me under,

Blurring out, in, and out again;

My self awareness plundered.

I think this is the end.