Numb Ice

First poem I've written, I wanted it to be raw and personal which I hope I conveyed. I wrote about my depressive episodes, I wanted to show how they come and go, so I can come back and remind myself.

‘Numb Ice.’ �" Alicia Warren

Splintered in my bones like the tingling sensation of pins and needles,

The uncomfortable knowing

that what I should be feeling,

Is no longer there.

The time it lasts is less than a pin prick of my entire existence,

And yet it feels like continuous torture lasting a lifetime.

It always comes back, when I least expect it,

At the worst possible moment. The last possible moment.

Right when I’m on the edge, when I’ve built up the courage to move forward,

that one step toward my destination,

It hits me like a truck and sends me ten leaps ahead into nothingness.

 

It’s cold here.

It’s not like I didn’t know that already.

It’s nostalgic.

I’ve always felt the subtle chill of nothing breathing down my neck,

Tingling my cheekbones and numbing my senses.

The freezing atmosphere engulfs me, leaving me helpless.

The cold was always a comfort, I was not its stranger.

It strangles my vocal chords,

Containing any words that dare attempt to flee.

I can’t blame them.

They wanted to escape this place.

 

Eventually, if I’m lucky,

one or two may manage to break the seal.

Seeking for guidance,

They push out of my throat.

And dissipate into the darkness.

 

It was futile.

No one can reach this place.

 

Time means nothing here,

An hour turns to a day, turning into weeks,

Eventually I lose count,

Or maybe I just accept defeat.

 

Sometimes though,

My pleas from my choked-up words come back.

Although this time they look different,

They look strange,

Something about them feels,

Warm.

 

My cheekbones flush, my senses heighten.

My surroundings feel safer, brighter.

I see now, these words aren’t mine.

These ones are laced with something mine don’t contain.

Endearment.

I’d never use such kind words towards myself.

They really do look foreign.

 

I stay here a while longer before I return.

The strange words led me home,

Back up to the edge.

I feel content.

The numb chill has hidden.

It will return, one day,

For now though,

I am warm.

 

Perhaps I should realise that my feelings were not stiff and unchanging like ice,

Unlike my thoughts in that place, my feelings were there,

It was not hopeless,

They were temporarily frozen in place,

awaiting to be melted.

Author's Note

Would love some constructive criticism as its my first poem :)