If today was a colour,
It would be bright orange,
Like the flame in my heart.
It once burned blue,
Intensely hot and infused with passion.
But as the days pass, enthusiasm evades me.
Excitement now sounds like a foreign concept,
And my head no longer bops to the memories it stores.
My fingers are no longer eager to trace over familiar features;
Eyes, nose, beards like a king.
Chest, abdomen, arms with muscles like sand dunes.
There’s nothing here but a vague recollection of what was once irresistible,
There’s nothing here at all.
I’m afraid I’m cursed,
With a mind unable to accept stability,
And a heart, incapable of nurturing emotions induced by dopamine.
At what point do I accept this as my fate?