Is it worth it?

It’s warmer now, but I’m afraid to remove these gloves. I’m afraid to let these numb fingers feel again. Sometimes feeling hardly seems relevant, when pain is all there is. Too much for too long, like eating ice cream too fast. Maybe the headache is worth it in the long run. But the scavengers of loneliness run off with whatever pleasure there was.

This place, that place, the world - it doesn’t really matter. It’s always dark and all the same that way. I think it makes it easier, not seeing. Not knowing what isn’t there. Pretending that it might be just around the corner still.

Moments pounding on the door, demanding to be let in. Running away before I can even get up to see who’s there. Just temporary, like all good things. A mysterious blip on the radar like uncharted islands in the Bermuda triangle. Like thinking the man I dream about ever dreams about me.