Numb

Sometimes bad hours become bad days, sometimes the light doesn't shine in the morning, sometimes when I wake up from naps, I wish I didn't at all. Nap, I mean. Sometimes I'm... not ready to face the world. Don't have the right clothes. Can't apply the right make up. Struggle to tie my shoe laces. Open the wardrobe. Pick the mask for the day. The smiley one will do... will do.

Will anyone ever know? Should they ever know? Thousands of faces, false faces, faces hidden behind the masks of friends. Devils hidden underneath the ambiance of an obedient angel, grabbing me, pulling my hair, kissing my neck... no...

Tell me, when do the devils stop? Is there such a thing as real angels? Do I give up hope now, or later? When will the devils carry me to the place they call Demise? Will the angels fight for me in my final hour or have I been estranged that much? I don't want to be far gone, but frankly I'm much too numb to know how close I am.

Sometimes it's just not even anything. Sometimes it's like you're drowning. Silence. You are silent. You do not want to give any... thing away. Make eye contact. Draw your eyes down. Eyes are the windows to the soul, don't let anybody see that soul. Beautiful soul. Damaged soul. Oh, what would they say if they knew about you?

Then Night comes and engulfs me. Like a tidal wave. I prefer the night sometimes. I like the night. The stars, the moon, the silence. The deadly silence of night. Foxes rumbling in the bushes, make my dog bark. I wish I was a fox. He's holding me close now. Asks a few questions about me, he cares? He shuffles, gets up, looks out the window, sees Night approaching us, runs back to bed, holds me closer, my saviour... my saviour.

It's numbness. It's knowing what people say, when they say it and why, but not answering those questions. The answers are the worst. Keeping quiet is hard. There's a lot they don't know. A lot I've seen and heard. A lot of She Doesn't Know That We Said That. They say what we don't know won't kill us. They have never said anything truer. Sometimes I wonder if you have to stop breathing to be dead. What if death is a state of mind, until it becomes a state of physicality?

Numb. Its a strange word I always felt. I'm not wanting to die, I don't wish for death, I just wish to feel the fullness I used to feel once upon a time. I remember when fairytales were real. I remember the Disney films. I remember my potential, my hopes, my aspirations, my wishes for Prince Charming. Oh! How my reputation has made such ambitions impossible. How people love to see another fall. We have not progressed from throwing fruit at other people, except now the things we throw do not rub off in a singular wash.

Everybody can stab at the egotistic bubble you formed to protect yourself from others. They can try.

People get close. You fall for them. So fast. So deep. You push them away. They won't want you one day, then what? Pang in your heart. Breathe. Brea...the. It's you. You get over it, right? You're strong enough, right? I mean, you've done it several times before, right? The German for heartbroken... Todunglücklich. Deadly unhappy.

How many will leave before someone stays? Who won't get bored of the silence? I question, if anyone would ever squeeze the past out of me, sit me down with a coffee and talk about it. I cannot run away from the demons that chase me from a broken and battered past, and the demons of a present day are parallel to me now. I'm waiting for an angel. A saviour. Sometimes people need saving from themselves, and sometimes those who are numb do not realise how much they are hurting themselves through their own actions.

One of the reasons why sex is fun, is because you cannot be numb during sex, but you can be numb to thoughts. You feel physically and the only thing that attacks your mind is a physical euphoria. No nasty thoughts.

If people only thought before they opened their mouths. If only they considered the several year long consequence of their actions. If only they reminisced before they clicked that button. If only they remembered you're real. Thank yourself for that egotistic bubble, you're going to need it now.