I feel how you feel.
Your hatred,
your sorrow,
Your love,
your fear,
Your doubt,
your confusion,

Your desperation
beyond reparation,
I feel how you feel.

Your every emotion
threatening to choke out
the life of me.
Empathy, I'm told,
is a marvelous gift.

Unable to please myself, though,
because your happiness is on the line,
and I'll just keep on telling myself
that I'm fine.

But wedding bells are beginning
to sound like hell,
and I think
there might be something wrong here.