Swimming Through the Greatest Depression
Woke up today thinking about the lack of sensation I have from the neck up
And the creativity I say I have an abundance of but never shows up when I want it to.
They say imagination is a well, but mine’s run dry.
I’ve wandered into the Sea of Depression
Waves of blue anxiety washing over me,
A metabolic choking of the oxygen I once thrived on.
If it were located on a map, I would belong to the edges
Where monsters lie
And I fear to tread.
No lighthouse, no way back from the void.