Scraped

I have overcome a lot.
But what does that mean?
There is still so much.

Will I ever feel again?
Will I ever feel life — life in a rush?
Or has that all gone away…

I have urges — bad urges — bad for me…
But I don’t feel.

I have people next to me in bed.
I can feel their flesh,
but not my own heart beating.

I know I’m still here,
but it feels like you’ve killed me.

How to express what it’s like
to have everything good drained —
every ounce of hope, optimism —
innocence lost…

Slowly.
Finessed out of my heart and into your mouth.