Depression.

All consuming grey. A funnel of exhaustion, despair, static.

A vortex in my chest, a vortex in my chest.

How deep is this ache? Over my head, I am underwater.

The static fills my lungs

The static fills the air

thickening my blood, thickening my blood.

 

Colours down the drain. A steely shade of grey, brown, grey.

Rust and copper, lime and mould, fetid, curdled fatigue.

Haze and smoke fill the air

the air clots in my lungs

my mind is smog, humid, drenched in sweat and toxins.

and static prevails.

 

The scream is caught in my throat

stuck midway between my lungs and my mouth

Like a hand choking me from the inside;

squeezing my lungs til they give out

and the sickly sweet flow of blood

thickens.

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