《Book of Suicide Poems》THE ILLUSION.

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There is a voice in your head,

Saying how you don't deserve to be loved.

There is a voice in your head,

They stop you before you say the right answer out loud.

You're not broken,

Maybe cracked on the sides.

Depression,

Anxiety,

Those are twisted fuckers,

They lie,

They make you hallucinate,

They make stop you from being your best.

Depression is an illusion,

Voices in your head,

They do not exist,

They aren't truthful with you.

And that is a truth I know.

This is not a poem, more of an explanation. I hated my dad for saying depression was only in my head. Because it makes it seem like it doesn't matter then, like I was not in pain. But I know you are, and I also know depression is an illusion. The voice in your head saying you're not good enough? They are lying through their teeth. When they ask you do you really want to do something, what if someone laughs? Who gives a shit, do it, baby, make me proud. Depression is like a wall that stands between you and the you that you are underneeth it all. You can't go around it, or over it, or under it. Just through. So, clench your teeth for a second and punch it head on.

You are strong enough.

You are beautiful/handsome enough.

You are smart enough.

YOU ARE WORTHY. YOU ARE ENOUGH.

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