The Western Plains of the Heart

I miss her, and
it's uncomfortable.
I'm not used to
feelings.
In the past, I would
drink when I
felt uncomfortable,
or felt anything, for
that matter.
Now, I identify
the feelings, like
a strange new
species of animal:
"Oh yes, that's sadness.
It's indigenous to
the western plains of
the heart."
Feeling emotions is
strange and scary,
but it beats the
alternative;
feeling nothing,
and dying alone.