there is something so frustrating about it, because it's cliche, but. you really do feel like there's just a hole in you. something missing. like life just whistles right through, never quite touching any heart in you.
are you happy? sure. you're probably happy, smile about it. it's just... happy like smeared icing; happy like leftovers. you are happy around the hole, never happy full-up.
are you sad? that's the good news - if you are sad, it's nowhere you can feel it. life just washes over your ribs and you wake up crying without reason. when you touch your wet cheeks, you feel kind of silly about it, the drama you've met. you say - huh. this is weird. i'm honestly not even really upset.
like life happening to a puppet. like remembering agony in a dream. oh, you should probably be worried. it's not good to not feel anything. you know that logically.
but you're so very numb - you watch the little alarm rise in your chest, a warning. you find yourself laughing. uh oh. you say. i think something is burning.
