Numb: adjective, deprived of feeling or responsiveness.

I never understood why they told me that numb was good;

That it would help me heal.

Numb is never the absence of feeling.

Numb is the condom that would keep me clean but you refuse to wear.

Job done you tell me goodbye means forever.

Six hours later I am still counting the aggregate in the asphalt between my knees.

Road rash hurts right? I don’t feel it.

I don’t feel anything.

That’s not quite true.

I float on a bed of dry rice;

The cellphone you carelessly dropped in a puddle but hope will survive.

I am fried.

You walked away and I wait for the last drop of the gutter to seep out.

I know that there are crevices you never found.

Months from now I’ll wrap myself in a bulletproof vest I designed

With layers of time and detachment,

And step out into the light for the first time since.

Of course we will cross paths outside Abercrombie

And the high caliber looks you shoot through me

Will knock the wind out of my chest but I will barely feel a thing.

They’re right numb is a good thing.

Numb is the cortisone shot that helps me get out of bed in the morning.

Numb is the cocktail of anti-depressants, sedatives, mood stabilizers and whiskey

That keeps me high. High as in not becoming a body sized, fetal shaped lump

On the ten year old Anthropologie rug that lines my closet floor because I

Refuse to get rid of it before I get my money’s worth.

My heart didn’t break, it died and numb is the addiction that

Is keeping me from realizing that maggots and amputation would be the better medicine.

Numb is my made-up best friend.

Numb is a lie I tell myself.

Numb is the earthen levee that keeps the pain from flooding in.

But it isn’t deep enough to stop it from seeping in above the bedrock,

Like cold air at the foot of the bed, and planting a silent countdown

Until I get inundated by a seething slurry of grief’s five rivers,

The runoff from my chemically induced good mental health, and memories muddied by Novocain.

Numb is the plastic FEMA trailer that at first provided a roof over my thankful head,

Then became a sore reminder of the home I lost, but continued to be a necessity

Because brick houses cost too much to rebuild.

Numb is a conspiracy theory.

I am ready for the truth.