Black ocean

I can’t seem to care.

Showering is a chore.

I live for my bed.

Sleep is the only relief I get.

This is not me.

It’s a shell of who I am.

This hollow feeling grows.

Hopelessness takes over.

I’m so tired of struggling.

My eternal damnation.

Trying to turn purgatory into heaven.

Little lost girl at sea.

Such a big, black ocean.

My arms are tired.

My legs are sore.

Perhaps I can float for a bit.

But I only know how to float on my belly.

Figures.

Maybe drowning isn’t so bad.

 

Posted in Depression, Uncategorized