Numb Or Number

By Sanyukta Lokhande

I am so numb, I don’t even know what to feel anymore.

 I am just laying here, wondering why?

It’s like Franz Kafka came down and swirled himself in my soul.

I am so broken, shattered yet whole.

I know I miss him. I keep telling him.

How long does that last? The feeling of brokenness?

I can’t tell him, or anyone else. I can’t even tell myself.

The veilon in my words, eyes are something I cannot tell.

I wanna yell, I wanna tell him how much he means to me.

He is indelible. But so are my traumas.

He is elayne, the ray of sunshine in my dark life. But, my pain?

Is constant. Its tuirse.

He blames himself. I blame myself. He loves me. But I love my broken pieces.

Just once, I wish to tell him, cry, break, melt

Yearning to be read, understood, just simply held.

Is that so difficult? Am I so lost? Unlovable?

Am I nothing but a torn piece of paper?

I wanna be more. I wanna be his. I want him to know me, hate me and love me.

I fear losing him and so does he.

For the first time, I am not alone. Maybe. Or am i?

Can I just tell him I love him? And have it heard back?

Without him knowing how damaged I am?

I can only hope so.

By Sanyukta Lokhande