Feelings aren’t my forte.
I think a lot – to the point of overthinking. But I don’t feel a lot – to the point where I search desperately around in the leaves on the floor of the forest in my chest, hoping to find something that isn’t damp or dead.
When something should hurt, instead I feel empty. I search and I search, but my hands swipe at cold, frosty air, stuck in my lungs.
What will it take to light the fire back up? And what happens if the whole forest burns?