The Aspiring Archivist

A poem

based off of my current mental state

Sometimes I sit and wonder where

it all began to fall.

Sometimes I sit and wonder if

I'll make it through it all.

It the past few years I've seen

my life go down a hill

that I never quite expected.

Know how I lost, I never will.

Did it happen when someone

who I loved dearly died?

Did it happen when disease

forced us to sit and hide?

Or regardless of those things,

was I headed down this road?

Will I lose my mind, or somehow find

a way to shake the hold?

I thought I'd fly, my wings are clipped,

and I don't understand

why when I know that I could take a leap,

my mind won't let me stand.

Is this my fault? It's hard to say.

I hope not, but either way.

I'm sitting slouched back in my bed,

fitful thoughts storm through my head.

Am I stressed? Yes. Depressed?

Maybe, won't you take a guess?

I can't seem to talk to friends,

I just sit there 'till it ends.

Maybe someday when I stop,

I'll never ever start again.