Sat through another non-eventful free fall through the ceiling

while trying hard to feel something despite the way I'm feeling.

 

Trying hard to find my way back to the time of when

I didn't have to sit in this damn chair time and again.

 

For every day now seems a bit more like the day before.

Just like a cross between a treadmill and revolving door,

 

where weeks and months and years all seem to be as one long day.

And I sit waiting, hoping that the numbness goes away.

 

That perhaps someday I will finally learn to feel again,

where I can feel connected to a loved one or a friend,

 

or maybe feel excited at some simple little thing,

or cry, or laugh, or things like that instead of suffering.

 

For all I do now days is sit, as if the clock stood still,

watching everyone around and wishing I could feel

 

the things that they all seem to feel so very naturally.

And I sit hoping, wondering... if that ever can be me.