So, I wrote this a couple weeks ago, the third poem i've written since September. It's kind of complete @&%! but I figured maybe I can get better if I
get criticisms?

Getting the wool,

Pulled over,

Your eyes.


Scratchy, red, tired eyes,

Preparing for closure,

When you say your last goodbye.


Your mother says,

She hasn't seen your smile,

In days.


When you hear the voices:

"Depression isn't real"

Too much, until its just noise.


It isn't being 'sad'

Failing a paper,

Running to dad.


It means my brain,

Is different,

Makes me feel pain.


"Chemical Imbalance"

You don't understand,

The world has been silenced.


Remember when we were young,

With Monsters under the bed,

We could hear their lungs.


And sometimes knowing,

It isn't real,

Doesn't keep you going.


While, I've realized,

The pain of living,

So i'm keeping this heart sealed.


Monsters aren't real,

But Bullies are,

Selling their souls for a deal.


Can you go to heaven,

If you kill yourself,

Will 'god' tell you no?


If so, I guess,

I'll see you in Hell.







The End

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