POETRY
When Numbness Moves In
Stream of consciousness

There’s numbness that kills; it seeps through the cracks in your heart it takes hold it builds a house it grows a family it hosts BBQs it starts a book club it invites her friends — sadness and despair— and they give each other mani-pedis and massage their backs and they decide to live together, forever and ever in your soul, and if you try to evict them they tell you to go fuck yourself.
There’s numbness that sleeps with you, wakes with you, cooks, eats, masturbates, and helps you see the bottom of every bottle; you rehearse your best smile and put it on so people won’t know you are numb dumb dull just a stump.
There’s numbness you can hide; you get so good at it that, when you die, people swear they didn’t know you had become so numb — she was the kindest the life of the party the giver of joy the greatest friend the happiest of them all.
No one knew…
There’s numbness you get to know; you sense her presence even before she arrives home, so you make her some coffee — with two sugars and all that was left of your cream, bitch — and place it in front of her on the table, and you try to talk to her and explain why she can’t stay, but she ignores you and takes over your room and writes on your favorite books and spoils the end of all the movies and reads shitty lyrics aloud.
So you take a breath and cry while you concoct a poem on an old typewriter so you have no choice but to keep going even if nothing rhymes even if you make no sense because now, for a moment, the numbness stepped outside for a smoke so you went and closed the door behind her and, even though you know she will come back in a day or two years, you can, at the moment touch your tears and feel the warmth they leave on your skin.
There’s numbness…
You can watch me perform this poem on my YouTube channel or on the video below:





