The Cold Numbness | Teen Ink

The Cold Numbness

June 7, 2008
By Anonymous

My ability to stand on my own is dwindling,
It is constantly being challenged,
There are no moments of peace and rest.
Life is forever throwing me sadness and is expecting me to fall.
And time and time again, I get back up.
But as each challenge is thrown,
My ability to believe in the eventuality of good goes down.
I will eventually be loved,
I will eventually be okay with being an adult.
But every decision I have to make gets harder and harder,
And the risks, the repercussions seem to get grander.
I lean on others for support,
Only to find that they aren’t there.
My own two feet aren’t enough.
I am constantly swaying in the rhythm of life.
The next small gust of wind will be the end.
I can feel everyone’s expectations weighing on me.
And I can finally feel my shoulders start to slump.
I can finally come to term with not being enough.
I will never be enough.
I have too many broken pieces,
Tears that haven’t fallen yet,
And moments of shut eyes under my belt.
I am forever shutting my eyes to scenes that hurt.
I cry with my eyes permanently closed.
I learn of broken fantasies with eyes closed.
I no longer am surprised when I am not enough.
I live in a numb state of dull acceptance.
It’s this rhythm I have to everything.
This hypnotic rhythm that I can’t break out of.
I am afraid,
But nothing confronts me enough for me to be truly afraid of it
I am on auto-pilot, and me coming out of it is something I don’t think can happen.
I try to silence the fears that linger in me and keep me from standing.
But I keep on swaying,
I am a gentle tree in a little breeze that is too vulnerable to everything.
This weakness that has taken hold of me,
It rules me like a king over his peasants.
I have no say,
No means to abject to anything.
This weakness has become me.
I dare life to get worse,
To push me beyond repair,
To take the wind from a harmless gust to a painful storm.
At first I was surprised that it could,
That something could be even lower than the bottom.
And now,
Now I find myself comforted by the fact that I could be a little sadder.
This is the soft reverberation of my defeat,
The song that played after I became weak,
The first words that describe what I truly feel.


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