Depression isn’t beautiful

I know it’s not romantic, I don’t look pretty when I cry

I know it’s not sexy as blood drips down my thigh

I know it hurts to see someone you love look just like me

Messy hair, unbrushed for days, bags under their eyes for every hour awake, red swollen lips from crying all night, my eyes full of fright

It’s not beautiful yet

But it might

When my eyes look bright

And my hair brushed

And showered body

And making art and writing a lot

But right now it isn’t beautiful, because I feel like I’m not