A Poem a Day (529): Numb

Numb
 
A state of being,
unbecoming.
Numb.
 
A fear of sleeping.
The bogey-man outside
your door.
 
It used to be light,
like feathers. Now you
can’t hold the weight.
 
Every walk a fine line.
Your feet precious,
your arms, your eyes.
 
Numb.
The lifeless alive,
half-living it.
 
Shapeless, things
used to form. Water
stopped mid-flow.
 
A small release with
people you love,
conversation stifled.
 
Scared when walking,
scared when thinking,
scared just being.
 
Numb. It’s four letters.
It sinks you down. Takes
your breath away.  
 

Copyright Vickie Johnstone, August 2, 2022