Attack of

the Colossal

50 Foot

Feelings

 

“Feelings, nothing more than feelings.”

                                   ~Morris Albert

 

Holed up in a darkened bedroom,

I’m forced to eat flowers to survive.

 

The feelings (or creatures) are known

for taking infinite forms.

 

Last night I wrapped my heart

in an ace bandage to stifle its beating.

 

Now, here, in this moment

within an hour of a day,

all that’s left and all

that ever was are the feelings.

I know I must preserve them

despite their attempt to devour me.

If they die, I shall too.

Aye, there's the rub.

 

My friends have all succumbed.

Whether from trying not to feel,

being unable to feel,

or feeling too much,

I can only pray they win the battle.

I fear that most are hiding the truth:

that the feelings have taken over

their bodies and are controlling

their thoughts. This is how they

swarm in mass and procreate.

Sparking off each other like

firecrackers setting off fireworks.

They live by knee-jerk reactions

and their desire to live more fully.

 

Our dilemma is complicated

because the feelings

which live on emotional triggers

are engendered by our own sensitivities.

We are their gun powder.

 

Joy will cost you.

Pain, on the other hand,

is free, but highly contagious.

Grief is quite sticky.

Fear tends to flood.

Jealousy is a fire.

Hurt leaves a wound.

Love, well love

leads to rehabilitation

by making the ego helpless,

therefore, vulnerable to disease.

More than once

have I relearned to walk,

speak, and even weep.

 

Hate is a quake.

Sadness, a collapsing.

Anger an explosive.

Disappointment, a detonation.

Horror is a contraction.

Disgust, a spitting out.

Awe expands the mine field.

Longing baits the hook.

Loneliness cannot see

any beauty in itself.

Frustration is a hunger.

Confusion circles the wagons.

Admiration, opens a wound.

 

Last night I wore a pain patch over my heart

because the feelings are coming.

God help you.

 

2/13/23