How I Feel

Oh you want to know how I feel? 

What an interesting question. 

How do I feel? 

Do I feel with my eyes? 

Is what I’m seeing causing all of this pain? Do my eyes like watching me suffer through each day as they reveal to me all the ways in which you don’t love me?

Do I feel with my ears? 

Are the words that I heard you say condemning me to insanity because I can’t help but replay your seemingly harmless rejection over and over again, praying for different words to leave your lips?

Do I feel with my hands?

Are they why whenever I touch the places you’ve touched I feel uneasy?

My skin is no longer soft, but rough and harsh, like a shell in which I bury myself deep in order to hide from anything you say that might give me hope.

So you want to know how I feel?

Well, I’ll tell you that I don’t. I don’t feel. 

Not anymore.

Not after you.