Weight Of Me

heartbeat slow…

eyes heavy…

world muted…

I’m here… but barely.

I wake and drag through static skies,

mind a storm I can’t untie.

Every thought echoes “worthless,”

every step feels like a lie.

I smile to hide the cracks inside,

laugh at life, but I just slide.

The weight of me is constant,

pressure I can’t deny.

I’m screaming loud, but no one hears,

trapped in the fog of my own fears.

I want to run, I want to fight,

but I’m stuck in shadows of the night.

Depression’s a storm I can’t escape,

chains I didn’t forge but still feel like fate.

I’m here, I’m alive, but it’s hollow inside,

carrying worlds I can’t set aside.

Sleep won’t come, my mind won’t pause,

every memory a flashing cause.

I try to hold on, I try to care,

but the quiet whispers “you’re not there.”

Even laughter feels too loud,

even friends feel like a crowd.

I want connection, I want to breathe,

but I’m underwater, can’t surface, can’t leave.

Every day is a climb unseen,

fighting battles that no one’s seen.

I try to speak, I try to break through,

but the words get swallowed before they do.

Depression’s a storm I can’t escape,

chains I didn’t forge but still feel like fate.

I’m here, I’m alive, but it’s hollow inside,

carrying worlds I can’t set aside.

I want help — I want light,

I want my shadow to take flight.

I’m tired, I’m raw, I’m worn, I’m real,

just wishing for something to heal.

heartbeat slow…

eyes heavy…

world muted…

I’m here…

still here…

barely…