Punishment

Life has taken on 
a strange hue, 
as if all it’s colours  
were siphoned 
into memories of times  
we didn’t hide our 
breaths 
to be able to take 
more. 
Every heartbeat seems  
watered down, 
as if painted by an  
amateur artist  
struggling to find that 
perfect balance  
which makes colours  
seem real. 
Music has a much  
deeper hold on me 
as if the notes 
are drowning  
and have decided 
to bury their  
inhibitions  
under the ocean floor. 
My fingertips trace 
every object in 
their path 
to relish in their 
existence,  
their own stretched  
too thin. 
And my feet,  
my feet,  
they move tethered to 
a hope, 
Hope 
that the earth will 
soon decide that 
it has punished  
us 
long enough.