Depression

This is the sound of depression.

The sound of your mother yelling at you to clean your room up for the tenth time this week.

The sound of a blade engraved in your skin.

Your pencil scribbling down your intense thoughts.

The sound of the monster screaming your not good enough.

The sound of crying, screaming, and yelling.

That. That is the sound of depression.

This is the feeling of depression.

The sinking feeling of pain in your stomach.

The monster tickling the bottom of your spine so you get these intense, scary chills.

The feeling someone just broke up with you, but instead of getting this feeling once, you get this feeling once an hour.

You're father calling you a worthless slut and how you react to it.

The feeling of depression is the feeling of death, but instead of dying, you live for years and years and years.

This is the taste of depression.

The taste of blood.

The taste of vomit in your mouth because you can't keep your food down.

The flavor of pain.

The taste of regret, the taste of sadness, the taste of hurt.

The swallowing doom of losing a loved one.

This is the taste of discomfort.

This is the smell of depression.

The smell of a dead body wafting through the vents.

Vomit.

Your dead body shitting itself.

The smell of a rotten bloody heart.

This. This is the reeking smell of depression.

This is the look of depression.

You not showering for your third week straight.

Engraved poetry in your wrist.

You almost hitting someone and everyone staring at you as you slowly lose your shit.

You losing 20 pounds in 1 week.

this is depression.