Written in the first person, this is a short, raw description of what it feels like to be worn down by low mood. The speaker says the world has lost its colour and become grey and bland, and that nothing excites them anymore. Even their heartbeat feels absent, as if they are barely alive inside their own body.
The middle lines shift from numbness to exhaustion. The darkness is "familiar," which suggests this is not the first time the speaker has been here. They say they have fought and tried, but fighting "yourself" leads only to dead ends, so the struggle itself becomes the tiring part. The line about a year divided between "lying and truth" hints at hiding how they really feel, though the poem doesn't spell it out.
The final line is the most striking. Calling it "disappointing" that they no longer want a way out sounds flat and almost detached, and that quiet tone makes it feel more worrying than an outburst would. The mood is heavy, tired and hopeless.