I’m emotional
And sensitive.
There is no rational reason as to why
I cry harder,
Feel stronger,
Tire quicker.
I don’t know why I shatter into fragments from the smallest of things.
It’s a maddening incontinence.  

I’ve learned to grow.
Seeds of wisdom blossomed from once parched dirt
Over the ages I crawled and bruised my way through.
I have a clearer understanding of how the universe works now
But I am in no way a master.  
There is still so much more to discover
And that alone is what I believe grounds me.
That simple curiosity
Of what will happen next.

I’m emotional
And sensitive.
There’s no rational reason as to why
My soul pours into everything without my consent.
As if it’s always desperately reaching out to grasp something.
An error in being human, I suppose.

I have grown to see that I wear my heart on my sleeve.
It’s a fact I sometimes have difficulty accepting.
A fact I often shun away
Because it can be crushing to feel so much, so quickly and all at once.
I wish I were better at pretending
And hiding from feeling
But I can’t seem to wrap my heart in clever and beautiful metaphors or allegories like some can.
There are many things left to learn, I suppose.
But what I have learned so far is:
When a person says they do not feel
They are the ones who feel the most.
I know this to be true
Because I say the same lies too.