I can no longer feel the touch of the sun peeking timidly over the hovering mountaintops in the early morning. Its glowing, golden scent is lost in someone else's heart, making it's new home. For it is welcome there.
My heart, now barren, is grateful it can no longer taste the bitterness of the curse you cast upon me. It is gone in the wind, your spell, as wistful as a piece of parchment is lost in a storm.
Yet, with no grief for the loss of torture, I find myself seeking what sacrifices I have made. I desire their return, as if they could satiate the hunger in my soul. But they can't. Nothing can.
I can no longer breathe in the life around me, for there is none anymore. All my joys lay lifeless in the wasteland that I used to call my own and I wish, with what love I have left, that tragedy had never taken its toll. Sometimes, I believe it was too much to pay.
I can no longer be who I was, who I used to be. That person is long gone; deserted in a conscious that will forever remain isolated in my mind. Entrapped in their own prison and never to be visited.
I am now what I used to fear. I have become what had haunted me in the shadows of my past, impervious to fate.
I am untouchable.
I can no longer feel.