Not like a needle or a knife or a wound,
A dull pain caresses the senses.
A buzzing dilutes the brain.
A weakness so strong the beat of your heart is enough to make your body sway.
Conundrums like nothingness live behind each blink, not wanting to take your eyes off the road for too long.
And your fingers twitch to the rhythm of the anxious mistaken watch that needs winding yet again.
Headlights lead you down the tree lined road, but deceives you into thinking you're headed towards lightness, towards home.
The beams grow further and more narrow as you sink back into the molten black of back roads at night.
The dullness is full, complete, thick.