Feelings
By Katie Robertson
Don’t do it, they said.
Do not start writing poetry about your feelings.
I did not listen. I started writing, and once I started,
I could not stop.
It was like all my feelings covered the page like a
spider weaving its web in the coldness of a February morning.
Feelings are an odd one, aren’t they?
We love to hate them, hate to lose them
but wish they were not there. Wish that just for a moment
they would leave us alone. Let us sink into the feeling of emptiness.
Let the cesuras stamp the page. Leaving us with an analysis.
I guess the heart is in fact a mitochondrion.
It is powerful and brave.
It is everything we will ourselves to be.
Do you understand?
Probably not.
But are you meant to? - No, of course not.
Feelings are meant to be misunderstood,
Unreadable, in undatable messages of the heart.
Which will either be shown for the world to see,
or hidden in between the muscle fibres, until the heart takes
its last beat.
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