Does this even deserve a title? I don't know anymore.

The clouded darkness that has long engulfed my room clings to the outside of my body with little regard for personal space or integrity.

How long have been a slave to the darkness' disparaging embrace? How long have I sat wondering how I will feel tomorrow? I can't say I can open my mouth to answer, let alone my mind to begin to think.

My brow can stay furrowed on my face as hard as it wishes but not a single thought will appear before me with a lasting impression.

The darkness protects me from what I know I don't want to see, the mirror taunts me on the other side of my man made cell.

The reflection I see is not of me but a well guarded, misted shell. Not a human with feelings but a vessel with an unknown purpose.

Given the chance I would reach inside myself, I'd shatter the bars of my ribcage and squeeze past my strained lungs just to make sure that my heart was still beating.

Numbness is worse than pain; with pain you know what to fix.