The Depressed. Poem by tiffany fawcett

Sadness is like the bones, holding the insides together
Happiness doesn't exist
Cutting my wrists is like a summer day
My sanity is like an old forgotten dog
Excitement is when I'm slipping under the edge of numbness
Boredom is like my sanity, long gone
Depression is a quality of mine
Joy is something I don't recognize
Pain is something I am all too familiar with
Numbness is a like a get out of jail free card, it saves me
Anxiety is when the razor wont cut my scarred skin
Fear is when the pain slowly bubbles up to the surface, my heart.