Tomb

Tomb

A Poem by Alexanne Dauntless

My mind is a tomb. A graveyard of buried hopes and dreams; a graveyard with tombstones of acid and drugs. I feel numb, but is numbness even a feeling? Do I even feel? What is it like, to feel? My body is nothing. Nothing but a machine left to do what it was designed to do. Neurons and nerves, doing what they were created to do. Created, designed, chanced? I do not know. How do I know what I do know?

I remember why I started drugging my mind. I remember why I started drinking. To drown these questions out. To drown everything. Destroy. I feel like destroying. Is that a feeling? If I feel, then I feel like destroying. I can feel my hands clench. That is a feeling. I can feel blood dripping from my palm. Pain. That is a feeling. But I don’t feel pain. Only the blood. I can smell it too. Destruction.

I am tired of the questions. I am tired of the wondering. Tired. Is that a feeling? Do I feel? I no longer feel. I no longer feel, because I am dead. My mind is a tomb. A graveyard of buried hopes and dreams. Hopes. Dreams. What hopes have I buried? What dreams have I ever remembered? Dreams are subconscious wishes. Even the nightmare. We all long for pain and destruction; even subconsciously. We long for pain, to remind us that we are alive. That we still feel.

But what is it like, to feel? What is feeling? How do I know I feel? How do I know what I know? I know nothing. That is all I know. I am dead. That is all I know. I long for destruction. I long to make people burn. I want to see the world on fire. I want everyone to burn. To feel the pain I wish I could feel. I watch the blood drip. I watch their feelings in their eyes. I watch them feel.

I walk away. Dead inside. Sometimes I wish I could consume their souls; sometimes I wish I could drink in their feelings. I wish I could feel. But wishing is a feeling. Do I feel? Is wishing a feeling? Is longing a feeling? Is loneliness a feeling?

I feel nothing but numbness. But is numbness a feeling?

Nothing but numbness. I feel nothing. I am not even dead. I am not even a corpse. I am nothing but a tomb.

© 2015 Alexanne Dauntless


My Review

Would you like to review this Poem?
Login | Register




Share This
Email
Facebook
Twitter
Request Read Request
Add to Library My Library
Subscribe Subscribe


Stats

256 Views
Added on January 27, 2015
Last Updated on January 27, 2015
Tags: depression, fiction, prose, tomb

Author

Alexanne Dauntless
Alexanne Dauntless

Dresden, Sachsen, Germany



About
I am twenty-nine years old, and live in Dresden. I consider myself a writer; not merely one who writes and creates because it’s fun, but because I have no other choice. It is a drive within m.. more..

Writing