There Are Days

There are days
when the world sucks
at your feet,
when every step is a long
schhhhhhhllurPOP
of effort, as you grind
against the forces that hold you down.
Depression isn’t a fight, it’s a slog.

There are days when everything you feel
is caked with mud
and the mud isn’t yellow, or
white, or brown;
It’s grey, just
grey
and it fills your eyes, your soul

(For me, sleep is restorative
at least if I do it right
which I hardly ever seem to these days;
I’m sleep-challenged,
dysleepsic.
Oh, how I wis...