I don't know if

I'm anxious

or depressed

or suicidal

or really if I even exist.


All I know is 

nothing seems real

and all I can feel

is the absolute lack of feeling.


I can say

I don't hate anything,

but I can say

I don't love anything.


I'm equivalent on everything,



One could almost say



But not quite.


My heart beats.

My lungs breathe.

My mouth talks.

My lips smile.


But inside,

there isn't even a flicker. 


Not even a flicker.

This poem is about: 


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If you ever need help or support, we trust CrisisTextline.org for people dealing with depression. Text HOME to 741741