Stifled

Sometimes the numbness comes back. 

Pressing against the inside of my skull 

quietly,

then violently. 

Quietly violent.

Like I’m standing in the eye of a storm.

Eerie.

Or the storm is crawling in all directions 

and I’m standing still.

Do you ever try to scream in a dream? 

And your teeth gape open, 

your limbs shake

but not a sound comes out?

I am screaming,

screaming into the wind.

My words are swept away as quick as 

they were thought. 

An arrow launched with a broken bow

Never reaching its target.

Softly landing on the grass

Safe,

yet purpose unfulfilled.