Numb

I cannot even pick up a pen

I have no emotion from which to draw words.

No way to reach the anger that burns like a fire.

I feel nothing

Have my veins turned to ice?

Has my heart turned to stone?

The sun kisses my skin but it is a stranger to me.

My limbs move through water.

My bed oh my glorious bed, why do you beckon me so?

Sleep will not save me.

Dreams will not inspire me.

I am nothing but a living statue,

with eyes of shrouded darkness.