The depth is sore.
Once the not feeling --
An absence --
Now there and raw.
Motions fill the space
Around me.
They were the mechanics of days
And days on end,
Slowed now somehow.
No sense to the slowing.
Though no one seems to notice.
This depth I cannot fill with words,
Suddenly useless and
Insignificant.
What to do instead
To soothe an unfamiliar hurt?
Silence and the soreness
Becoming familiar.
An aching want.
A wanted ache.
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