Psychotort Poem by Matthew Charles Mueller

Often if feel so numb...
So numb that I long to feel
Anything.

The joy,
The happiness,
All too far away.
I strain my eyes to see it,
And I wish I could be angry.
For why should others be happy when I am not?
I stress my ears to hear it,
And I wish I could scream.
For laughter is merely temporary and hollow.
I waste my strength to feel it,
And I wish I could cry
For I long for the warmth of loved ones.

My mind aches;
I cannot remember anything pleasant
Anymore.
My false sense of dignity
Tries to keep me from the alternative.
But when my will is weak from months of my emotionless masquerade
My dignity abdicates

And I prepare to soak it in,
Because now all I have to associate with the thought
Of gaiety
Is pain.
Not physical pain.
No blood for me.
Nothing I can touch and feel with my hands.
Nothing I can control.
But skin shivering,
Face drowning,
Lung emptying,
Soul twisting,
Pain.

I surrender:
Bring on this Psychotort!
It hurts,
It feels,
So real!
It keeps me alive.