Wrote This After My 2nd Depression Nap of the Day

What Does it Look Like When I Go?

Sometimes I wonder what it looks like from your perspective

when I lose my mind.

As you watch my inanimate body sway, my eyes wander—

Do you miss me when I go?

It doesn’t feel like my body needs consciousness to continue,

if only I could escape for just a while.

The writer in me makes connections between my thoughts and the ocean.

It’s my go to—the ocean—because my mind is a whirlpool

of contrasting currents controlling my flesh.

I’m grasping for passing thoughts as they rush by,

but my arms are slowed down by the water pressure.

As you watch my bones tremble, puppeteered by memory and muscle—

Do you fear I’m too far gone?

Either my anxieties surround me like seagulls,

squawking at me for a quick snack—

or I’m tumbling around in waves of mind-and-body-numbing thoughts.

And I’m just staring at you, blank-faced—

Unable to tell you that behind my eyes

I am drowning.