Feelings

I feel.
Weighted blanket.
Squishmallow.
Cool breeze.
Hot soup flooding warmth inside my core.

I feel so many things.
Some I want:

A thank-you note.
A loving embrace.
A shared joke.
A deep conversation.
Validation for all the heart I spill out.

And some I don’t:

Pain.
Disappointment.
Cold silence.
Misunderstanding.
A letter or message I laboriously dissect.

Sometimes I don’t want to feel at all.
Sometimes I’m ecstatic that I can.
The truth is: feeling never stops.

Passion.
Heartbreak.
Devotion.
Rejection.
Discovery.
Confusion.
Desire.

Disgust.

Victory.

Inadequacy.

What I continue to collect,
They are never just things.
I feel each one.
Texture. Emotion. Insight. Doubt.

As they pile up,
Mountains grow.
I struggle to see ahead.
I stumble as I climb.

Still, I lean into them.
Embrace them.

They smother me,
Sometimes as comfort,
other times… suffocation.

But I feel them.

I may not tell you.
You may not notice.
It may look like any other quiet space.

But here,
In this place,
I feel every single one.

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