People often say, depression hurts.

It saps the color from the world

leaving only darkness.

It turns shadows into monsters.

It holds your feelings hostage. 

But my depression is different.

I see colors clearer and more vibrant,

like the world has been soaked in paint,

the colors mock me, daring me to be happy

when they know I can't.

The shadow monsters are my friends,

they stand beside me protecting me

from the light, reminding me I have none.

I have forgotten what true happiness is,

though I have learned to fake it well.

Sometimes I can be truly happy,

a moment of childhood laughter,

but it is a ghost of a feeling

a dream ripped away

no matter how tight I close my eyes.

Some days I try to remember,

remember what the world looked like

before I tinted it with sadness.

But I can't,

because the world looks the same

 it's me that's changed.