So I wrote a poem….

How many minutes must I think about how much despair I am in?
How many hours must I spend online look for help with my suicidal feelings,
to try and fool myself into thinking I don’t want to?
How many days must I miss out on life because I don’t have to motivation
to tell myself it’s worth it?
How many nights must I cry myself to sleep hoping that things will get better?
How many weeks must I suffer until I realize that I need to get help?
How many months must I bottle everything up until it all becomes too much?
How many years must I live with this secretly knowing that things will never get better?
How long must I live this life of depression and despair?