Parasite

It woke so quietly, I didn't hear it stir. But, slowly I am cloaked in gloom. My heart is heavy, my limbs are wooden, my mind is porridge. It feeds on me - stealing my warmth, my joy, my sight, my sense of smell. Until I am just a shell, a husk of a memory. It robs the colour from the world, the kindness from stranger's eyes, the flavour from food. Insatiable. Now everything is grey. Numb. Hazy. Still it feeds. I am completely hollowed out. And yet - pain is there on the edge. Gingerly, I reach for it.