Thorns of Depression

People see me as a red rose, but they never look at my thorns. My thorns of depression. They stick to me like tape, and my soul bleeds with pain, Pain that can’t escape. The demons of darkness deep inside, Seize my serenity and exchange it for sorrows. It’s like walls are closing upon me, creating a maze of confusion, My thoughts drift away, making me even more lost. Every time I look in the mirror, I see nothing but glass, My identity invisible and my inner self miserable, My reflection nothing but a lie, because what really lies inside of me Is covered with anxiety and the words of hatred strike my ears, Making me fall into my own sea of grief. I tell myself to stay strong, but my struggles overpower me Leaving me in this endless tunnel that proliferates the pain, Pulls me apart and I am left hopeless. But in my lonely nights, I ponder and find courage to accept myself with love. As I slowly give up old fears, the nightmares disappear, My inner suffering meets an end the everlasting silence breaks, My words can be expressed, my feelings can be awakened. Now a voice inside of me, like a candle in a dark room Tells me to keep breathing because my life has a meaning. I realize that life is not just about being a rose, But being a rose which blooms with thorns.