Old Books and You

You are depressed, you are sad, things don't make sense to you and you are tired of explaining how you feel and tired of feeling worthless and anxious, you want to die every day, your toxic thoughts are driving you mad and you wanna end this misery but you convince your self to try and stay for another day. You are anxious chipping your nails and you don't meet people, you shy away from their eyes and you avoid the eye contact but I am in love with people who are depressed. They are a masterpiece, they have cracks when people break them, they have thumb prints of people they love they have an impression of time on them. Just like a used book with stains of tea and oil, they have stains of harsh words and tough times on them. Their stains bring bright colors and glitter to shame, they are as colorful as a unicorn with perfect colors of depression, misery, sadness, and loneliness.Their sadness overcomes every situation and their silence puts words to death. Their eyes don't cry anymore and their pen bleeds every day. They don't smile often and when they smile their eyes don't smile with them but how I love when you smile and your sad eyes try to compliment your weak smile. God how much I love your silent smile and brave small talks. Your courage to never give up and your bravery to wake up everyday telling your self that this will end soon. 
You, my love, you are a masterpiece, I am in love with your damaged toxic and beautiful personality and there is nothing in this world that can convince me otherwise.