.post it note poem.

depression's cold fingers lurch forward
and pull through the core, leaving
behind nothing but a sinking chill that
cools into numbness. this numbness turns
to feeling nothing at all, save for the stiff
mechanics of breathing; the challenging
reminder that life still exists in this body.

.tired.

do you ever get tired of being alive
being stuck in a routine
with no foreseeable escape

stuck
lost
alone

this loneliness
clings
will not release me

trapped
worn
thin

this life is too heavy, too much
it is but a burden
take the breath from my lungs

release
run
die

the thick waters of being
surround, pull, and attack
tossing and throwing and dragging

drown
breathe
drown