I don't know what "empathy" is.

I don't know what "feelings" are.

I don't know what gives.

 

I read people and expression

The same way I read books:

Analytical and critical perception.

 

My "empathy" is a patchwork

Of hundreds of characters who feel

And know where emotions lurk.

 

I told you, "Listen to her."

Because that's what books

Tell me to say as an advisor.

 

My "empathy" is an intricate woven basket

Catching other's hearts and feelings

While for my own, my heart is their casket.

 

I can't tell you what I feel right now.

Because nobody in books is like that.

Nobody and nothing have taught me how.

 

Carefully constructed clockwork machinery

Attempting to be some semblance of a heart,

But never more than just mechanical empathy.