You don't know
You can say that you've been sad before but you don't know how I feel. You can tell me to get over it, but this illness is still real. You can try to pick me up but it doesn't mean I won't still be down. You can say you see me laughing and playing but on the inside I still frown. I can tell you how I'm feeling but I can't make you feel my pain. I can appreciate you trying to help while still taking your gesture in vein. I can laugh and smile and seem normal while still loathing I exist. I can get through the day but that doesn't mean I still didn't want to quit. I hate that I can not make you feel and see what's going on in my mind. I hate that I seem mean and hateful; I wish I truly mean to be kind. I hate that the fact that I can't make this madness ever go away. I hate that the fact that I feel like I'll never believe that you will always stay. Your words and gestured don't go unnoticed just to let you know. I needed to