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Inertia

Inertia is a crawling, grappling feeling. With eyes. And the eyes do nothing. Neither his or mine. Inertia is mine. A glass feeling. Attempting to do things. Just peeling away instead. Inertia. A feeling of depression. And if you challenge it? It darts away. Inertia churns. Tumbles. Then your eyelashes peel apart. Nothing anymore. Inertia is someone… Who didn’t try to take anything away. He just looked my way. And gave me depression again.

Copyright © | Year Posted 2025




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Date: 7/20/2025 8:39:00 AM
Your poem captures the haunting weight of inertia as both a physical and emotional paralysis. Its fragmented imagery and repetition evoke the slow, corrosive nature of depression—how it lingers, hides, and quietly returns with just a glance. It's raw, intimate, and unsettling in its quiet power.
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