A poem about depression and attempting to overcome it.
I am the rejected one.
I feel completely depleted.
Like a squashed bug, under my thumb.
My guts are splattered on the ground.
I don’t feel special.
I don’t feel pretty.
I can’t feel anything but emptiness.
I so desperately need a hug, but social distancing rules won’t allow it.
I’m trying to remind my self that, “This too shall pass.”
But the words fall flat on my…