numb—(adj.): deprived of the power of sensation
i did not know what it meant to be truly numb until i begged an unseen god to give me back my muse. some way to rid my tired brain of this toxicity, to pop the ******* cork and let my emotions well over and release like champagne. in a forgotten time, words flowed out of me, slowly easing my mind of the noxious feelings eroding at it as pen was put to paper.
no longer can my emotions boil over into words; rather, they are pushed deeper and deeper into my being, slowly rotting me from the inside out. a lost sense of rhythm. a lost sense of touch in a dark room, no guides, no way to let out what i am feeling inside.
a false smile can hold a thousand words; a single teardrop, a million. i wish i had that ******* luxury. a look in the mirror at my tired and battered self, a deep cut of pain, but no blood flow. i absorb the pain into myself, still praying my muse will one day find me. destroy the dam built in my brain housing my lost sense of empathy, my deep pain. and as i write this short piece of prose on my inability to feel, hoping for a release of some sort,
i wait.
Feb 6, 2017
Feb 6, 2017 at 12:36 AM UTC
numb—(adj.): deprived of the power of sensation
i did not know what it meant to be truly numb until i begged an unseen god to give me back my muse. some way to rid my tired brain of this toxicity, to pop the ******* cork and let my emotions well over and release like champagne. in a forgotten time, words flowed out of me, slowly easing my mind of the noxious feelings eroding at it as pen was put to paper.
no longer can my emotions boil over into words; rather, they are pushed deeper and deeper into my being, slowly rotting me from the inside out. a lost sense of rhythm. a lost sense of touch in a dark room, no guides, no way to let out what i am feeling inside.
a false smile can hold a thousand words; a single teardrop, a million. i wish i had that ******* luxury. a look in the mirror at my tired and battered self, a deep cut of pain, but no blood flow. i absorb the pain into myself, still praying my muse will one day find me. destroy the dam built in my brain housing my lost sense of empathy, my deep pain. and as i write this short piece of prose on my inability to feel, hoping for a release of some sort,
i wait.
