Anxiety and Depression

So many cries for help

Pounding on my skull

But none of them escape

For fear of seeming dull

Apathy is settling in

Desire slinks away

Not so much as darkness

As fuzzy dimming grey

Like the bleakness of a sunrise

In a foggy Monday morning.

I think if would cut myself

I wouldn't feel the blood come pouring

But even just the thought of that

Of harming ones own flesh

Just makes me feel more petty

like I'm becoming less