Chest knotted and heavy laden, the hand around my heart tighens.
I gasp for breath, looking around, and the thought of clearing away the mess hangs a tired weight upon my soul that drags me deeper under water.
She’s gone, for good, and so has all the bouyancy.
Thanks Sonya for the prompt and Scott Umstattd for the image.
What a wonderful picture of depression. Loved that last line.
Thank you 😊