It's Getting Bad Again

I think I understood it was getting bad again
When I started to do everything sitting down
And I think I understood it was getting bad again
When a smile became more difficult to produce than a frown
When the room didn't light up whenever I was around
And when the tears came silently, not creating any sound

And I think I knew it was getting bad again when my own internal clock stopped ticking
When the itching for joy became my new favorite pastime
When a laugh with my friends cost much more than a dime
It was more like an act that I put on with a grinning mouth that isn't even mine

And I think I knew things were getting bad again
When my bed went from being a resting place to being a tomb
When I couldn't look any of my friends in the face
And when I started to assume that I wasn't wanted or needed
When my head felt haunted and I pleaded

And I think I knew it was getting bad again
When my pen felt too heavy to pick up and write
When the same damn haunted dreams played in my head throughout the entire night
So I rip out my hair in hopes that I'll be able to see clearly
In hopes that those I love dearly will notice
Do the empty patches on my head express it to you?
Or should I keep silent and internalize what I'm going through?
Or should I continue to release my empty screams into nothingness
With tears flooding down my face?

Tell me
If I'm so important to you
Then why am I so easily replaced?

I think I knew it was getting bad again when the fog came back
The crows flew away, and the darkness started to attack
When a simple conversation became exhausting, and I avoided all human contact
And when I began to wonder if I'll ever get my permanent smile back