I am not dead

Hey, you here, I am not dead
nor that I lost my head
weariness and crippling anxiety
bestowed in me a sudden breach of confidence
that hopefully is temporary

I am not dead
or maybe I am after all
most things now I want to sleep through
like I’ve become unfit for life’s relentless déjà-vu
I wasn’t born dipped in strength’s sauce like most of you

My stomach is in perpetual distress
my feet are swollen from walks, I forgot how to rest
I am not dead to my problems and my insecurities
they’re always nearby, waiting to strike as they pleased
and me to cry as I forego my endless deeds.

I am not dead
I am just quiet
amid the chaos that swallowed vitality
my half recognized body lay bare in a panoply,
a panoply of hopelessness and disdain.