Depression

Depression is like molasses,

The gunk that fills up your joints

And stops up your head

Every time someone asks,

Can I get a gift card for $20?

What time are you free tomorrow?

How do I get to the nearest gas station?

 

The language I have spoken my whole life

Has suddenly become a jumble of noises

I can’t decipher.

 

Heady, unshakable exhaustion

Leaves me sputtering and frowning

As an undercurrent of prickling anxiety and

Burning humiliation warms my face.

Let me go check, I utter

(I don’t miss your puzzled look)

But you will move on

From the hard stop to the flow of things,

And I will become

But an irksome smudge on your memory.

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