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To feel nothing at all is a profound pain that deeply affects one’s essence, eroding emotions and vitality. A soul that has lost its humanity becomes unfeeling and doomed to navigate a cruel, indifferent world.

This existence is marked by a profound detachment, where vulnerability is a distant memory and survival feels like a burden. A shattered mind is numbed by painful memories, and a heart, encased in emotional armor, yearns for the past yet cannot truly feel anything.

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They didn’t come as monsters, not dressed as beasts,
But as lovers, as brothers, as saints wearing grace.
They smiled as they gutted my spirit in feasts,
Devouring trust, leaving famine in place.

Do you know what it is to be eaten alive,
Your soul gnawed to gristle, your dreams stripped to bone?
It’s not death that haunts you; it’s being deprived!
Of the mercy of dying. You learn to atone.

For what? I don’t know; I was guilty of breath.
I was guilty of love and of standing too still.
They sentenced me silent, beyond even death,
To dwell in a fortress they built of my will.

They screamed, and I listened; they wept, and I held,
Each burden I carried, each bruise I adorned.
When they broke me, they laughed; and my silence compelled,
A power I hated, a strength I had scorned.

I tried to bleed vengeance, but nothing would pour.
My veins had gone quiet, my heart had retired.
They asked if I felt; but my chest was a door,
Locked shut, sealed shut, too ruined, too tired.

What use is a man who can no longer cry?
A vessel unbroken, but hollow, bereft.
What use is a heart that no longer asks why?
That no longer loves, and has naught left?

I stand here immune to both sun and to rain.
Their joys are like shadows that flicker and pass.
I cannot be wounded, but neither can pain,
Breathe meaning through this unrepentant glass.

And so, I endure; not broken, not whole,
A man who remembers but cannot return.
They killed the boy who believed in a soul,
And left me immune to the fire in which I once burned.

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Living in numbness reflects a haunting existence where one is present yet not truly engaged, trapped in detachment that avoids pain but also prevents joy and connection. This state of survival, while seemingly victorious, is ultimately a result of loss and despair.

Feeling nothing leads to a hollow existence, where one may survive yet forget the essence of living. This state is not healing but rather a haunting reminder of lost experiences, which traps the spirit in a colorless reality, highlighting that numbness sacrifices the richness of experience and the beauty of being vulnerable.

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