The Last goodbye.

I always wondered if depressed people know they are. Do they choose to not see the signs? Or do they just refuse to ask for help? -There have been more than one setting where I decided I was depressed. For me, it took some nerve to let people know I was sad but I never said the words. They won’t understand what happens to your body when you go from an extreme high to the lowest low, When getting out of bed becomes the most hazardous moment of the day; Your body is aching from all the things it has lost. Your heart is numb from all the feelings it was forced to bottle up. You scream but in a voice that no one can hear, in words that nobody can read. You cry your lungs out but no one is there …. You won't be there. Suddenly, everything turns darker than vantablack, your whole world comes crashing down like shards of glass in a jiffy while you stand there breathing just a little, with your dull eyes staring blankly at the empty life you have and the talismans that kept you sane for so long are the ones that hurt the most. You refuse to let people in to the most private places of your heart because they cannot make you feel what you do not feel; you cannot be blamed for that lack. You refuse to write about what is going on, in the troubled little mind of yours because it hurts; everything does.
I didn’t use to understand why people fanaticised about death. But, as more time passed, I started seeing the beauty of it. Actually, the mere idea can drive a man out of his wits, believe me. The loneliness…….the nothingness sometimes feel like they are the only place where you actually belong. You spend your whole life searching for acceptance but you are never good enough and you want it all to end; the pain and the suffering that feel like a poison running through the veins in your skin. You wish there was a potion or an antidote that can take all these travails away and you want to rip your veins off with no regard to the farewells you will have to bid but you can’t.
I am a mosaic; created by the sharp fragments of everyone I have fractured and shattered. I am haunted and I am a graveyard of love. I am an ugly mess and a bitter failure. I remain throat-wrenched, heart-parched, an unrepentant tongue, an overflowing of hollow. I'm a singular line created to separate worlds. I can’t fix me.