Depression hurts 
It is not the latest trend to be snapped up by the eager masses
It is a false faced monster that swallows up its prey without mercy
It is not a pretty jewel to add to a crowned head
It is a misshapen lump of bitter coal that settles in the pit of the stomach
It is not a badge of honor, nor are the scars that stripe pale flesh
It is a shameful secret that most try to hide with long sleeves and false smiles
It is not the latest designer name to be bought and worn and proudly displayed
It is nameless and has no willing customers
It is not a passing phase that can be changed like seasons, or clothes
It is relentless, and it lingers and lurks and remains 
It is not a feeling that one can simply "get over" 
It is darkness and jagged bones protruding underneath starved skin
It is not a sadness that one can avoid even by changing the scene
It is awkward silences and injured confusion with those who were so close
It is not sporadic and fleeting
It is utter isolation. It is heavy chains that clank with each step
It is hollowed shadows and salt streaked cheeks and cracked, hurting lips
It is not beautifully tragic 
It is simply tragic 
Depression hurts
Depression kills