"(dip your toe in and you might not come back)"
Mental illness isn’t
pretty faces, the only blemish
some bags from lack of sleep
Mental illness is
ragged faces from nightmares that
wake you up in a cold sweat
thin frames, from shyly saying no to some sweets
organs squeezed between skin and bones,
eating has become something you can’t do without
throwing it all up afterward
too big sweatshirts and an allergy to school
not being able to get out of bed,
unsure you’ll make it through the day
the quiet kid at school, always reading
they should try harder if they ever want someone to talk to them
lungs no longer breathing,
anxiety tears broken ribs to pieces
headphones, dazing off in class
maybe lazy, maybe not
questioning reality
all grounding points gone,
the butterflies carried it away
neat freaks and a dresser with all matching socks
they wash their hands all the time
Repetition. Repetition. Repetition.
not being able to leave the house before it’s done right
streaked mascara, sadness is the only emotion in sight
high: driving with the sunroof open
laughing loud, you can do anything-
you don’t sleep for three days
going from happy to depressed pretty fast,
whatever that means
low: bang your head against the wall,
trying to shake off the demons,
who looked like angels a second ago
holding grudges too long
flashbacks
being shoved in the hallway and beat behind the cafeteria
your mom’s wail, you’re passed out from the OD
old scars and deep memories of the pain
your mind against itself
Mental illness is not something you can try on.
(trust me, you don’t want to)
There are people who survive it,
there are people who don’t.
It looks different on everyone,
lies blur the lines, you might get confused.
One thing is clear:
our pain is real,
so, you don’t get to
try it on like a costume.
Mental illness is real. Not some
label to be worn like a trend,
only to be thrown away when things get serious.
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Thank you.