In Carbonite

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In carbonite you can’t feel a motherfucking thing.

You can’t feel heartache, or loss, or pain… you can’t feel terror, or fear, or pain. Again.

You don’t have to think about what could have been, or what was meant to be, and you don’t have to delude yourself with thoughts of Fate, or the Force…

In carbonite a man stands, just as he is, just as he was, nothing more than he was ever intended to be.

You don’t see her face, can’t hear her voice, and there’s no worry over what happens while you’re wide awake in no man’s land. O, carbonite…

In carbonite you simply exist, for one second, forever, in a warm block of ice, in a world for the deaf and blind, and there’s nothing to say or do, even if you wanted to.

I hope I never get out.

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