Poem 16

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I give advice I do not follow
And I cry when you are sad

But I disregard what I said
When it comes to myself

I am not worth anyone's trouble
And I don't want to make you sad

I am not a sob story for you to hear
Or a collection of sad words to see

My anxiety does not make me
And my depression is not who I am

But it takes hold and keeps me at bay
Not letting me ruin you

Instead it keeps me crumbling
Seemingly a masterpiece to some

Like an old Greek statue
I was destroyed and yet

Someone still found beauty in me
In my flaws and the rubble

And the anxiety was still there
Keeping me crumbled and sad

But the facade I kept up for you
It was working or so I thought

And when you asked about my past
I told you it was a long story

Like one in those ancient caves
Hard to decipher and harder to tell

My monster said not to spill
And so I kept it all inside

And consoling you proved easier
Than consoling myself ever would be

Because if you were the Mona Lisa
I was an old cave painting

Both praised for their value
But only one is a true work of art

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