I don't understand how the victim is the one to be blamed, as the predator goes off easily. The sensitive ones blamed for how they feel as their reaction are blown out of proportion while the predator gaslights and walk off with no responsibility or consequence for their action. Why is that salt is added to wound, trigger pulled on a trigger while the perpetuators, manipulators walk off free. I don't understand why the victims suffer, while the predators are glorified. I don't understand, and maybe by breathing naivety never will.

- To the many things, I fail to understand about this world

You told me not to be “sensitive” 
So here I am trying to deflect,
but I end up absorbing the pain of your words,
the intricacies of this world,
pretending not to care about what is said 
and has happened.

I hold the tears in,
place a mask on my face,
and a lock on my lips
so that none would spill.

But now I feel numb
unaware of how I feel
and unable to cry.

Now, here you are
calling me emotionless.

I guess there was no in between;
either a heart of ocean
or a heart of stone.

Talking to you
when I felt weird,
makes me feel insane and crazy.

Talking to you
when I am sad
makes me feel I am sensitive and emotional.

You made me feel all this in the worst of ways,
because I met someone who,
when I was crazy, was crazy with me.
When I was sad, they understood me.

In their acceptance I found who I was
and embraced myself for who I am.

the red is far too deafening -
shut palms around my ears
and yet the world is on screaming fire.
my finger joints crack in my eardrums
while the sunflowers roll in the mud.
firecracker red; fire engine red
took a nap in a sack,
the sun never goes away.

if i may i would turn to pray
to a man up in city hall
where the crowds prey,

i'm asking for a bellyache from hunger,
a shadow to leave my body -
not quite the youthful sunshine
with flaming ash in the air.

please be quiet - you're neither
the hysterical patient, nor
one who needs the normalising
medicine - you would not wish.
it is growing on me, much like
a generous parasite.

your ocean eyes, I swim among
while your vocals are echoing smoothy with every word you've sung
your hair like luscious trees
your kindness so strong, every night it brings the sun to its very knees
the thought of you makes my heart brake
not out of sadness, but in some other way you make it ache
I know the thought of you only exists within my mind
but I hope someday, one like you, I will find
oh send my dream boy, waiting for me with an open heart
because in this lifetime the two of us seem to be worlds apart


© L.F.

I used to dislike being sensitive. I thought it made me weak. But take away that single trait, and you take away the very essence of who I am. You take away my conscience, my ability to empathize, my intuition, my creativity, my deep appreciation for the little things, my vivid inner life, my deep awareness of others’ pain, and my passion for it all.

Yea so men ****,
And they are kinda lame.
But with my luck,
They're all the **** same.

Insensitive to how I feel,
stupid and useless.
Like shark bait on a reel,
I am temporary and placeless .

I am easily removed,
Happily I bet too.
I'm not some animal to be wooed,
Men are much like the flu.

men ****,
I hate men.