I think

this is depression.

Where today is already tomorrow,

and tomorrow’s embers are already blinking out.

Where, in the absence of prescription

and the click-scratch-click-nod of a PhD,

the kettle is plugged in about four times a day [a tomorrow].

And you are grateful.

The beginning of things feels like hope,

So, the hot liquid sates you mostly

between your lips and the first sip.

And after that it just feels tiresome.

The days are spent with parts of your brain

recognizing the importance of things

like school and studying and work.

And you manage them with extreme amounts

of anxiety and very little heart

and yet you get by.

You don’t know how, but you do.

The bed may very well be your grave

for how much time you spend

sleeping, or refusing to get up,

get out.

You wake up and you

feel the emptiness like hunger.

So you eat, but you are not hungry.

You simply know that…at least that

is what you’re supposed to do.

Conversations are echoed by the knowledge

that you don’t know anything, what are you even

saying, Miss Silver Spoon with a BA in something?

You often wonder about self-worth.

But, you have lost control,

and the embers have gone out.


Nesha Usmani


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