Nothing. 

I lay in bed

Spending hours trying to rise

Alternating between motivation

And unsettled sleep again

My head weighed with lead (Pb)

Exhausted from all that I carry

This heartache and hurt

Feels too heavy a burden

For this light physical frame

This sensitive mind and heart

that apparently cares too much

I feel sick and want to cry 

Cry at my helplessness 

My seeming inability to be strong for myself

And my incapacitation 

That breeds failure feelings. 


I will not dwell on negativity

But when I can barely move

Barely keep my eyes open

The positive reinforcements

of daily achievements, missing

Then everyday movements of others 

Become the most difficult part of my day

Insufficient energy to scream

Silence completes my prison

Solitary confinement

Sensory isolation

Beaten and battered, there is nothing left

Of me, or for me

There is, Nothing. 

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