The Things Felt

I have these feelings and I have no idea what to do with them.




I am never good at hiding my feelings, nor am I good at ignoring them.








I can't wish them away, in fact I don't think I would want to.


It's not wrong to have them.







Actually I really like having them.


Only, it is very confusing.
Or rather, it is very confusing under the present circumstances.







A person who has nothing fears losing nothing.

But I have something.
I have feelings.

And I fear of losing those feelings.






Although those feelings make things all the more difficult for me, although they make me miserable at times, and although they perpetually put question marks around my head...


Even though I cry because of it,
and even though I fall ill because of it...





I fear having nothing.




Being empty inside scares me.
Having no feelings scare me.



Although it is probably more comfortable to live without them, it is undeniable that human emotions keep human beings human.







The more violent his emotions become, the more human he becomes.
The more animated he appears.
The more alive his life will seem.








I fear turning into a doll.








I fear turning into a piece of hollow plastic.









Right now what I feel is so strong,

so strong that it replaces the sun as a power source.



But the heart as a power source burns out more quickly than the sun.

Soon the heart will explode. Supernova.







To most I probably come on too strong.
Or too fast.



I've been known to scare many hearts away.





But like I said, I am never good at hiding my feelings, nor am I good at ignoring them.



I wear my heart on my sleeve,
and maybe,
just maybe,
it is because of this... my heart is in so many different places at one time.




And is broken in so many different ways imaginable.








Though the wounded pride is led astray,
and if abused, feelings wither away.....




The human heart heals,
and falls again.







I am not fearless.
I don't think I ever want to be.



















This heart gets excited when the object of its interest walks into the room.

Or sends a text message.

Or smiles.




This heart is pink.


This heart breaks easily.
Shatters.
But always survives.







This heart is soft.

This heart is probably made of marshmallows.



Mmmm. Suddenly I feel like eating marshmallows.