Mezclado (free time and depression)

Inspiration drains away like used water from a tub.

The brightness cradled in my chest fizzles; my muscles slow to an unmotivated gray.

And my inspiration slips away.

My fingers itch to create; my mind wanders into unopened tabs,

But when I lean my head over the toilet, I can't get myself to throw up.

I want to write; I want to think; I want to spew my guts all over the page and show it my mother. i want to apply to college; I want to start a manuscript; I want to smudge the glass of a window twenty feet off the ground. I want to tell him how I feel. I want to hold his hand and kiss his cheek and show him that he's important to me.

Goddammit. I want to do something.