Lifeless and tired,
my body raises from my seated position,
dragging my heavy feet with gentle footsteps into the washroom.
The cupboard is clear.
Free of any medication that will numb the pain for an hour or two.
But it's only an hour or two.
For an hour or two I'd be emotionless.
For an hour or two, I'd be sitting in my room, staring at the wall,
unable to write or even to think.
But after that hour or two,
the pain would be back.
It would rush into my body faster than I could ever rush my body in front of a car
It wouldn't bother to creep up on my innocent soul, readying itself to pounce.
It would just speed into me, slamming its breaks after I've been hit, only to make sure that I've been affected, before continuing its journey through my body.
My body that's been drained from all emotion would suddenly **** alive, feeling the burning venom of the pain searing through my veins.
What happened to the blood pumping through me, keeping me alive?
Oh right, it's gone, because so am I.