My feelings are a force. On the brink to reemergence, as they offer tiny attempts to exist again, I am struck. I am star-struck. An engine in my breast, humming. Someone turned the switch. Somewho.
My feelings are a force. I now understand. I know, somehow. How they went on hiatus, how they left me, how they left, accompanied with what I loved. So I loved no more. They left, and I, left behind, turned to stone. A distant ore that could not (be) move(d).
My feelings are a force. I know now. I know when I observe this quiet humming, caressing me in an ever so gentle way. A sound that is a light. I know and suddenly, I am, again.
My feelings are a force. Their offerings include myrrh, incense and shame. Every incident I failed, they remind me. Every pain that is possible – they know how to inflict hurt. And then, at my most vulnerable, vanished.
What I know now, what I can finally feel: those motherfuckers abandoning me? It’s what they did to save my sorry ass. They could’ve killed me. Would’ve eaten me alive, inside out and so forth. If they had stayed. If they had made me feel them. Those were not walls I built. I did not become stone. I gained layers to face a force I missed.
My feelings are a force. They move me. To tears, usually. Or to song, today.
A soft-spoken humming.