@genprompt_bingo - Anhedonia

[galadhir]

Stalled out on the previous line, so here's a cheerful little ditty about Anhedonia - which is the inability to feel pleasure. Although honestly I'm interpreting it as the inability to feel much of anything at all.

~~~

It is painless.

This soft fog thins at times,
into the gloss within a pearl.

At times it is an overcast winter's eve -
nothing on the horizon but dark.

I do not struggle within it,
nothing reaches me here.
The nothing settles over me
in heaps of silent goose feathers, dirty and warm.
Once I used to dance.

There were universes in my mind,
where suns bloomed and swirled,
and I basked in the healing,
and the joy of the words.

Nothing reaches me now.
Nothing comes from me.

I am sealed like a chick in the shell.
And I am weary -
too tired perhaps to pierce the membrane, to crack the wall.

I am safe in here. And weary.