Tickled my intellectual nerves
Squeezed my gray matter
You are a crafty brain-fucker
And I feel idiotic, naive,
Like a pretentious teenage girl
Dumped on prom night.
Stroked my body offered like a gift
Caressed my fragile onion-skin shell
You are an artisan of desire
And I feel worthless and ugly
Like an unwanted step-child
Thrown in on Christmas Eve.
Wrapped my heart in a golden foil blanket
Bandaged my wounds
You are unfailingly empathetic
And I feel shattered
Like a windshield after a car crash
Desolate on a lonely country road.
Mingled idly with my ancient soul
Danced on occasion with my very essence
And I feel like selling my own shadow
Like someone with nothing left to lose
Empty on a cloudy Saturday in April.
“Feel” is most definitely a four-letter word
To be used with reckless abandon
Or not at all
Like all four-letter words.