Lethargy

... except that's not quite the word for it.

It's like a pint of lethargy, with a shot of depression, laced with exhaustion... Yeah, that's more accurate.

And I know in this state if I were to somehow find myself in the ocean, I would sink without even putting up a fight. Down I would go, cloaked by the embrace of the undulations, plunging like such wreckage.

Submitting without resistance, I would feel the increasing constraint of the sea as I sank. I would greet as I sank many animals and fish, going about their business. They would not look up as I passed, because I would not disturb them.

And when I finally reached the soft layer at the bottom of the sea that is covered in the thick bed of plant life, I would find a round spot of sand, and curl close as a cat. And there in the deep resounding soundlessness I would sleep.

In the arms of Morpheus I would find security, and we would both revel in the intimacy and familiarity. And while we embraced the silence would carry our tenderness in its teeth. And while we had each other he would groan, and be stung at my woe.

Far below the world we would stay, isolated by our trust.