My hand feels foreign
Like it's not my own;
It feels so distant,
It feels unknown.
Slowly spreading
Up to my arm:
I hope it's not a sign
Of impending harm.
Now at my elbow,
Climbing further still;
Feels like it's saying,
"Going up the hill!"
My own fingers grazing
against my very palm:
Such a strange feeling,
Yet, why am I so calm?
It's spreading past my shoulders,
Down my torso it goes;
Thighs, knees, ankles;
Then it's down to my toes.
Everything feels strange
Although I know it's mine;
And yet, to every stimuli,
I react just fine.
A light dawns upon me,
I finally understand
The truth behind this sensation
That started with my hand:
I feel a smile upon my face;
How could I be so dumb?
I have gladly come to realize:
I'm finally going numb.
YOU ARE READING
The Darkness Within: Vol. 3
PoetryA collection of poems and rants from the first notebook I made after my phone got taken away. There's quite a bit of stuff in here, so yeah. Personal stuff. Public stuff. It's basically just my life in poetry. Anywho, enjoy~~!
