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.