Analgesia
I come back to these scribbles
jotted down in broken verse
of when I felt.
When my body burned with passion and rage
when my loins ached or my heart broke.
Revisiting the epoch of life
trying to re-assemble the shape of those energies.
Yet I am still numb.
Apathetic and drifting on analgesia
the medicine my hysterias sought.
Humanity leached into distance and fugue.
Desensitized to the state of existence.
I cease to be me.
Copyright © Tara Jennings | Year Posted 2019
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