Truth slaps you left and right,
yet you don't falter.
Truth beats you twice every second, yet you don't give a damn.
Truth strikes you everytime you breath, yet you still welcome the air.
Truth pounds every part of your tenderness, yet you don't move.
Truth hits you often when you're unready, yet it became expected.
Truth pains you in all ways you cannot imagine, but it isn't piercing-pain anymore.

It is numbing of all sort.
A pain you became very tired about.
A pain you became very familiar of.
A pain that became your edibles and identity.
A pain which became your bones and nerves.
A pain which became you.
A pain that doesn't feel hurtful...
but nothing.
Like a gentle wind resting against your pelt.
Like a vision of tomorrow, and of complete nothingness.