I’m stuck inside.
Stuck like stuck.
Inside as in insight.
Insight myself.
What day is today?
It’s grey day.
No good, no bad.
Somewhere in between
the point of numbness.
Except for this pink heart.
„Feelings“, I read.
If I lick, will it taste?
If I swallow it, will it beat?
Will the beat get back?
Back in all colours,
all ups and downs,
all tension and turbulence,
back as in back in the game?
back as back on track?
