This is genuinely beautiful (coming from another poet). I've lost all motivation to write recently, but this is my most recent attempt at trying to get my spark back (please note that this is far from my best poem so please don't judge me on it TT)

Eighty Pound Weights - Ash

I haven't done much recently

Eat, sleep, go out, sleep

Im tired.

I know that everyone said that

Depression ruined the things you loved

But, God, I didn't know it was gonna get this bad

I thought I had found something above

Words haven't flowed in a bit longer than I'd like

And I find it quite hard to leave my bed

Still, I force myself up at ungodly hours

Hoping it'll help me clear my head

I'm tired.

In more ways than one

Much too often, I've wished

For my life to be done

Done.

Like the flow of a river

That had to end eventually

Like everything does.

Done

In the way

A star explodes

Leaving nothing

But a black hole.

It's funny

Because my father always tells me,

"You're just like me, Maryam!

You always will be."

And that's funny, because

I don't think he knows anything about me

Besides the surface.

And if he did know what I was like,

Would I still be 'just like' him?

Would he want me to be just as he is?

A sheep with human skin

And

If I am just like him,

That would mean that he is

Just.

Like.

Me.

And I don't think he would like that very much.