Depression (p.2)

I tell them to listen,
that I am not well,
but they can’t tell.

As I beg doctors that cannot help.

They brought me places where I didn’t belong,
not realizing they were the reason all along.

Telling me they can’t help me out of this.
Why don’t they see somethings amiss?

I want them to see how
this disease is affecting me
instead of ignoring me like an unpaid fee.

But they never will.
It came out of nowhere is what they’ll say,
pretending it only happened in a day.

Something is wrong with my head.
Maybe they’ll notice when I am dead.

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