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.