dysthymia

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The sinews of my soul have been messily dissected By the unsteady, wavering hand of depression Each tender nerve frays as it’s carelessly bisected
Below. Life is lived under two feet of water, And I can see the world on land. Above. The clouds are upon me, the days and nights bleed into one-and-other, and yet you all carry on without me Outside.
I drove through shaded green canopies To the boundary of land and water, And as I tiptoed across crumbled rock Careful Not to fill my shoes with grain, The sour smell that lingered Between sand and sky
Midday and I can't wait to sleep, Night comes and closed lids just won't keep. Then wake arrives to my defeat; Low energy, 12 hour day, Repeat.
They say that I'm ill.
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