Sink

Photography: Lens Of Pritam

In the depths of quicksand, I reside,
With each move, deeper I slide.
Dressing, washing, simple chores,
Drag me farther from sunny shores.

To read a book or watch TV,
Is to drive with brakes for me.
My mind, a car on nails it treads,
With every thought, I feel it shred.

Isolation and grief tear my soul,
Every interaction demands a toll,
Chit-chat, once a joy well-known,
Now like walking on glass alone.

In this state where life’s essence wanes,
Simple joys become weighty chains.
Yet in my heart, hope does reside,
For in resilience, strength will abide.

~ Amanda Francey