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This Face is not Mine

They say that depression is built up over time
They say that it’s only sadness and that it is not mine
I was born with it so how can it not be mine?
All along, it was a devil on my back
Growing bigger each time the kids would call me names and I would just laugh
At eight, I didn’t want to live because people didn’t like me
But I didn’t like others
I was a kid that didn’t understand why they were so mean when I had to be nice
My mom told me not to hurt others so I didn’t but did they ever listen to their mothers?
Depression isn’t a disease and if so, I should be dead because it’s infected me since I was 3 and now I’m 15
At 15, I shouldn’t look in the mirror and hate what I see
Because the person standing there is not me
I see the depression and anxiety and everything else that’s wrong with me
Fat and disgusting is what they said to me so how can I not believe what they called me to be
Bleeding out the things that caused me pain, so am I bleeding out because I’m the one who hurt me?
I want to put on a different face because I’m tired of this one
This face gives me the wrong expressions
This face is not just a face
It’s eyes and mouth are full of depression
Pulling off the masks of what are supposed to make me happy
Stapling on smiles to trap the lies inside
It’s like a play playing out before my eyes
And I’m the main role who’s trying to hide in my mind to lock the other people out in time
Before it’s too late and I go off like a grenade
It arises
A thick wall full of dust and smoke
It’s so beautiful yet you choke
You choke on the words
“I’m fine”
Sitting in the room, rehearsing my lines
She asks if I’ve been thinking of suicide
Yes I have been but I told her no
Because I don’t want to be put in a hospital
So now nobody knows
What I’ve been doing and I have nowhere to go
This therapy session is killing me
They tell me to pop those pills that way there’s a chance at being happy
But I tell you no matter how much I don’t want to feel like me, I don’t want to feel those pills
Happy pills, that’s what they’re called, as if they make you feel happy at all
Depression was me, it’s what I was made of
And if I’m not feeling depressed, then I’m not here
I’m off in some other place
Filling that space in my head with a bed and I’m laying in it
I can see the black masses on both sides of me
Telling me that life is too hard and I should be dead
Yeah, I should be dead from those pills I took that one night
My life is not right
I’ve been holding on too tight
But now
Now, it’s time to fight
Fight against the growing statistics
Against a fake society
Against depression and anxiety
I have a purpose to save lives
But I’m not saving them for me, I’m saving them for God
Don’t thank me, thank Him for giving me words
To reach into your head and speak life to your soul.


-- Alyssa R., 15