I woke up this morning,
No feelings at all.
Completely numb, from head to toe,
Yet as I hit my arm on the bookcase,
I cried out in pain, because this kind of pain,
It can't be seen
I walked through the day,
A living corpse,
A zombie, a robot,
Nothing invaded my mind,
Because there was nothing there,
There was nothing to invade,
So they all stayed away
This is my pain, my burden,
My own little secret,
No one knows, No one cares,
My heart aches for the feelings it once knew,
And my mind races, searching for them in the midst of this mess
You see, this isn't a black eye,
A bruise, a cut, or a broken bone,
No, it's a deeper kind of pain,
One that helps to destroy my home,
Everything that once held dear disappears,
I bury it all, trying to hide the pain with it,
My numbness is wanted, yet feared,
Loved, yet hated,
I am this horrible feeling, or lack there of,
I am this world of guilt, shame, and pain,
I am a mix of all that is wished away
It's my own disease,
There to keep me at bay,
One I hug and create,
One I wish to cultivate,
I love it, and watch it grow,
Yet deep down, I'm filled with such sorrow.
I've lost myself to this pain,
This dire pain, that knows no end,
I've destroyed who I was,
And I've buried her deep,
I've given her up,
And I've left her to sleep
A disease they don't have,
A disease they don't deserve,
Yet here I am, filled with such hurt,
This disease of mine,
It eats me so,
It reaches deep down,
And I just watch it grow
There is nothing to be done,
No cure, and no hope,
Instead, I trudge onwards,
Searching for a light that isn't there,
Searching for a heart that isn't there.
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.
I would like to translate this poem