I wrote this poem on a lonely night as a response to “Since Feeling is First” by E.E. Cummings. A lover once told me that I think too much, thoughts take up too much space in my mind and make it harder for me to truly live in the moment. I couldn’t stop thinking about his words and realized that for me feeling is never first; instead, it is the agony of my overthinking and second-guessing all my feelings that end up dominating my relationships. This poem was written waiting for a text back, as the only way I could feel close to this person was through writing about him and my overwhelming thoughts.
Feeling is not First
In response to “Since Feeling is First” by E.E. Cummings
Feeling is not first
all the attention kept in
the crevices between words,
between kisses, for thoughts
fill the space between me and you.
All fools for the feeling,
the feeling of full stops.
Having us think and pause,
and cry if we need to.
Gestures of brain, commas
and dashes – making up
for the lack of eyelids’ flutter.
I can’t touch you, see you,
hear you, smell you, taste you.
So I write our life in paragraphs
and all you remain is a parenthesis.