I feel like a butterfly whose wings have been clipped by a girl with sharp scissors.
I feel like a love letter never sent. Like a wedding dress never worn. Like blue lips. Like Romeo when he thought his Juliet was dead. Like Juliet when she knew her Romeo was dead. Like Friar Laurence when he learned both Romeo and Juliet were dead, and he knew it was all his fault.
I feel like a medieval monk losing his faith. Like a dying king without heirs. Like a barren queen. Like a ravished lady. Like a dishonored knight.
I feel like a stag without antlers. Like a unicorn without a horn. Like a zebra without stripes. Like a leopard without spots. Like a cat without whiskers. Like a raven in the daylight. Like a dove dipped in tar.
I feel like a crooked nose. Like a crippled leg. Like a decaying tooth. Like a blind eye, like a deaf ear, like a limp hand. Like a pimple on the tip of a beautiful girl’s nose. Like Quasimodo’s hump.
I feel like Beethoven when he realized he was going deaf. Like Napoleon at Waterloo. Like Chopin when he pressed the wrong piano key. Like Hemingway when he had to write an adverb.
I feel like a crumbling tower. Like a burnt church. Like the Titanic when it sank. Like the Berlin wall when it fell. Like the twin towers when they fell. Like the Chinese Great Wall when it will fall.
I feel like a toilet seat on whom an elephantine lady is about to sit.
I feel like a solar eclipse. Like a dying star.
I feel like a bald barber.
Like a ballerina with a broken leg.
Like a snowless winter.
Like a cake without sugar.
Like a baby born of incest.
I feel like Z, the whoreson, the unnecessary letter.
I feel like God Himself when he reads the philosophers.
I feel too much, I feel not enough, I feel like nothing, like everything, like weeping, like not weeping, like writing, like not writing, like wearing my hat, like not wearing my hat.
I feel like an empty glass full of nothing.