Careworn

Sitting at breakfast

Eating my bowl

Of soggy cereal

Left out while

I brushed my teeth

Blood rushes

Out of my fingertips

In an instant

From simply

holding a spoon.

How nice it would be

To not be numb

In the cold.

Because the cold

Is inviting

Is everlasting

Is comforting

Encouraging even.

To feel my toes

When I dance

Earth underneath

Grounding me

Is so enticing

Walking barefoot

Without a care

Besides a scrape

Or a splinter.

To hold a hand

Without fabric

Cutting off

The connection

To be worried about

Sweaty palms

On a first date

Instead.

My untroubled mind

Is now

Careworn.

I'm tired.

Bored of the

Inconsistency

And of the resident

It has become.