I am jealous of those who complain of feeling numb. It would be so lovely to feel nothing. You don’t know how lucky you are.
Sunday Dinner
poetry & prose by HLR
poetry & prose by HLR
I am jealous of those who complain of feeling numb. It would be so lovely to feel nothing. You don’t know how lucky you are.
My times of numbness has been a reprieve from the pain. A surprising, uncomfortable space. Yes, the relief is bliss. But then the lack of feeling, the lack of love, the lack of caring about much at all, becomes even more uncomfortable. It is not a place to dwell, only to visit.
Yes. I feel everything. Sideways.