Numb reprise

The numbness of it all, the numbness to all things, things I liked and loved, they bring me only a dull numbness that is like a tongue that has been burnt by a sip of too hot tea leaving it numb to any taste or sensation for the next few days. With shaky hands and tired mind I can just about lie here and listen or watch. Typing too of course but if I don’t get these words out then they’ll just float around my noggin, free to roam, not settling just being, existing, letting me know that they’re there. They haven’t gone yet and even if you think we have, we haven’t. We’ll always be here, somewhere in the background ready to pounce when we get the chance. Is this malignant sadness, this black how I am now? Is it my defining… thing? I've just texted in to say I can’t make what little work I have on at the moment. Will they get bored of my illness and my calling in because of, ‘a bad day’?

Goodbye blue sky...