Built with grief
Too many tears
I'm afraid of medicating that malady
The source of my internal Nile
A river flow of anxiety
Like swimming in unsafe water
Full of maneaters, and territorial killers
Cataracts and rapids
Or at other times
Like the tide
The helpless feeling
With the pull of the sun
And the moon
A deepening depression
With the passage of years
Life no longer calls to
Or moves me yet
I'm swept up and deprived
Of any notion or illusion of choice
(completed on the first day of March 2025)
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