need to cry.
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I was neither asleep nor awake. my body had grown heavy like a sack of wet earth and every movement demanded an exorbitant toll a shred of will I simply did not possess. outside it seemed to be raining or maybe it was just the hum of the heating pipes. I didn't care.
the room smelled of dust and a slightly sweet decay the dried flowers on the windowsill had turned into mummies of themselves. I looked at them and thought that this was the most honest portrait of my condition. we were both waiting to be thrown away. the silence was so thick that I could hear the pollen settling on the furniture. not sadness not pain just a vacuum. scorched earth inside. the eerie calm of a person who has unlearned how to want.
