You’re human but they don’t see that. You cry, sweat, and yet you’re inevitable to them. Your pain to them is unseen, your anger and frustrations aren’t real to them.

But you? Why don’t they notice you? Why don’t they see the d-e-p-r-e-s-s-i-o-n in your eyes?

My dear your eyes resonate death, evil, pain, regret, embarrassment, shame, shallowness, injury, and nervousness – I see your eyes that is depression.

Oh dear Lord, your child is suffering; suffering on the inside. She cries and yet they don’t see. Why? I ask. Only her pillow knows her pain, when she weeps. Oh boy it wipes those tears away from her tiny eyes. Her pillow is her punching bag, which also becomes her hugging pal. Her pillow sees her vulnerability and sufferings.

If only we’d talk, I’d comfort you but heart-warmingly I feel pride because you lay your head on top of me and I give you comfort the best way I know how.

Dear k, you’re strong, beautiful, smart and enough. I know you’ve had enough but stop!

Stop using those sharp knives and razors you find in the kitchen and bathroom cabinet. I said stop! You’re scaring your beautiful flesh, marking it with scars. Those aren’t glitters, it is your blood.

Do you like what you see? Do you enjoy how you feel?

Who am I asking because you’re no more, you’ve freed yourself by losing too much blood but you’re free!

You were young with dreams to fulfil. You had hopes and intelligence but those whom you were entrusted to ruined all of that. Farewell my dear k.

Your love,
Your pillow.

You’re are gone and so am I.

Tell us: How does this tribute make you feel?