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Death, in Pieces

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Some days I thought I had died 

And, in a way, I guess I did 

I didn't break all at once

I lost myself in tiny increments

so there was no identifiable void that I could fill

Nothing to aim for 

No singular obtainable thing that,

once in my grasp, would bring relief

signifying I was whole

Discarded without direction

I simply ceased to exist

The death of innocence 

What remained was a mangled corpse, reanimated

But it was all I could be

Learning to breathe, to somehow be alive,

was excruciating 

My ability to feel had been expertly eviscerated 

I hid in the comfort of numbness

and the dark 

Imprisoned in sensory deprivation 

I sat with it, the despair, and allowed its curious caress with palpable apathy 

I was not my body

and my mind seemed an abstract concept, something divine, an entity of its own

Both intangible to me

I still can't pinpoint the place,

the thing,

the part

that held on

Anchoring me to misery

 stopping me from exploring the abyss

Ironically, in letting go and surrendering so completely,

the darkness lost interest 

An empty conquer 

A hollow prize

It calls itself sadness now

and when it visits we sit in the silence together

Lamenting the lost years

The moments we will never have

After a while, a flicker appears 

small and insignificant

I almost don't notice

Hope 

It must have been here all along

One tiny piece they didn't find

The only thing they couldn't destroy

Every day we inch closer 

It becomes more familiar 

Bringing warmth to a cold existence 

My body remains on the edge of numbness

A hair trigger switch

Whilst my mind pulls towards the endless darkness 

with morbid curiosity

And I hold onto both with white knuckles

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