NUMB

MEETINGS

Meeting your demons.

Meeting your ghosts.

What would you see behind the mask that tortures your soul.

Meeting the beasts underneath the sheets. Its always and forever there.
Planning on running but its there. A step behind, closer than your shadow.

Meeting face to face is a different story.
Your heart pounding louder than dark mega club drums at the dead of the night. The tingling sensation on your arms. The darting of your eyes. The lightness of your head. The jelly Like feeling on your knees and the sweaty palms.
All at once, overwhelms the soul.

The sudden weakness is not a new thing but this is..... This just can not be explained.

She sees a hand reaching and pulling her by her chest. Not gently as you would think but with the force to open old wounds and not just physical ones.

More scars on her body and soul as she is lifted up. It seems her tear ducts have dried up or was it more weakness to cry.

She just laid there. She was already used to the pain. But the fear. The fear could not just go. Or so she thought.

She was closer to the surface, she could feel it. The dirt getting softer but the grip still tight and firm on her chest.
The little air on her broken skin felt hot. Really hot.

She was on the surface but the surface, still felt like underground.

The air was burning her nostrils, the grip still firm, if not tighter. Her eyes were still closed as the hand pulled her closer and the smell made her empty stomach tumble.

"Wakey, wakey sleepyhead."
It said as she fainted.