I empath...
In paths
Cross paths with your path..
Can't hold the weight...
Of your freight..
And the pain that I take..
For I care like you care..
Yet what I bare you can't wear..
How unfair..
I can't leave my weight upon your shoulders..
To fester in your dreams at night..
So who cares..
When your awaken in the middle of the night
By someone else's nightmares
Empaths...in paths
Of pathological Struggle...
Become pathological..
The internal bleeding..
Of a empath..
Turns them psychopath..
The opposition.. For balance...
The mental.. Is like a dental ****..
Flexible protection..
Until it meets a sharp end..
And Then......
Depression seeps in...
And it'll take more than kumbaya
To regen..
Its the like sin.. I can't escape..
When its wrapped around your neck like a cape..
But what saves you from yourself..
When you need help..
From every one else..
You see I empath
In path with you...
Do you empath
Or bring me down too..

~September 5th, 2017~
~Sometime between 10 and 11PM~

Her:
You're an empath.

Me:
I guess so.

Her:
Have you ever thought about it?

Me:
Being an empath?
I never knew there was a name for it.

I never knew there was a name form my kind of pain analyzation. Like I have some kind of supernatural power to read into pain of all kinds.

Her:
Is it that you understand other people's pain or your own pain or both?

Me:
I think I’ve always done both.

Her:
I had a feeling.

Here we go.

Her:
How does it affect you?

A loaded question, and being the person I am I answered it the only way I knew how:

Me:
I always get this feeling that when people are sad or hurt, I have to be too.
Sometimes it’s just my way of showing that pain is just something people have.

But mostly, it makes me helpless to stop other people’s pain.
I get sad, like some kind of way to share the pain that isn’t even mine.
And when it is my pain, nobody can seem to understand it fully.
And it’s not like I completely understand someone else’s pain,
but you see and hear a lot when you turn silent for awhile.

Lots of people try to say that people aren’t alone when they suffer.
And most of it is comfort.

But most of the time I see people in pain, and I don’t see a reason to comfort.

I see more of a reason to just be there.

Experience something beyond yourself.

There a certain type of selfless peace that comes when pain is no longer just one person’s fight.

It’s not about being together in pain. It's about experiencing life with pain just passing by.
It’s been said in books, “Pain demands to be felt”
I don’t know, something about that makes me wish I could do more.

But yeah,
I’m empathetic a lot of the time.
Maybe that’s why I stick around even when I shouldn’t.

I stop. I've said enough.

Me:
Sorry, I’m rambling...
That’s a ton of text.

Silence

And for a minute, I wonder if anything I say is being understood.

Her:
The way you speak is beautiful.
I'm marvelling in it.

... I sit in awe. Grasping at a full acceptance of the way I convey myself in feelings, but more importantly, here, in this moment.

Her:
You speak poetry.

Me:
No wonder I’m a poet.
It’s like destiny or something idk.

Part of me wishes I would have spelt the whole phrase out, it has the same amount of syllables.

Her:
I'm here for you.
I **** at comforting and that's not what I want.
All I want is for you to know that I am present.
And sharing the fight.

This, THIS right here, is companionship, and friendship, saying that "I can be here", and that will be enough.

Her:
I want to fight with you.
Even though I'm not very aggressive.

Hearing this said, "I want to fight with you". Not "I want to fight for you". This says more than any kind of battle with someone at my side, this is real, in this moment.

Me:
Hahah, we’ll fight it with music or something.
Doesn’t have to be aggressive.
Faith, hope, the essentials.

We're believers in things like love, God, and good songs that rock the world... and we don't need much more than that.

Her:
That said, music can be aggressive.
But we'll stick to the essentials.

We'll stick to our guns and hopefully, we won't have to fire.

Her:
Please know that you can ramble to me as much as you like.
I love it.

I know... me too.

Her:
Goodnight, love you.

And as we come to an end, we fall back into a small but familiar silence between us.

Me:
Goodnight, love you too.

-End-

The empath girl
feels for those she loves most
On a level that cannot be understood by a simple mind.
But the empath girl
also feels so alone
For no one will ever care about her
On that same level.

My light has to be hidden from each and every walk of life;
it is a target for the darkness and strong emotions of others that are rife.
My soul is too deep and fragile to be torn apart time and time again,
by impassioned people who end up causing unintentional pain.
I am crushed by the weight of the universe.
They say to be an empath is a gift - but to me it feels like a curse.

WHY
Why do I feel so angry as I stand behind an angry man waiting for a path to exist across a busy street.
Why do I feel such sorrow and pain as I sit next to a morning widow on the bus.
These emotions are not my own,
But oh how they consume my entire being.
A man with a receding hair line sayes I am one of few.
Empath.
At first I felt relief on the new discovery,
But then I realized what it meant my emotions,
My being was just bits and pieces of others.
I am a collage of the left overs of others.
I am a sad patchwork doll.
Why must I be so strange and grotesque.
My body and mind see no boundaries,
We see what's inside of everybody.
I am fake I am not myself,
but a bit of everyone.

I chose ice-cream
Over yogurt;
Strawberry, vanilla or chocolate.
Each equally without prejudice
Attracted.
The fifteen year old server
Was kinda short;
The vanilla tub had about three scoops
Remaining,
Stacked hidden like frozen snow-*****
As in war games.
His task would have been daunting
And embarassing,
And I, a humanitarian
From higher education,
An altruist from St. Joseph's,
Could not allow it.

The chocolate tub
Was yet covered,
And the sobbing child's cries
Were hardening in my ears
As Dad tried to allay
His chocolate tears,
Applying the five second rule.
I am an empath
By nature and poetry,
So, turning from chocolate,
Left me strawberrry.
Triple scoop too.
I believe
You thought through
Your choices
Like flavors of ice-cream.
Being imaginative,
I do.

I hate this.
Everyone talks about what happened
mistakes that were made
yes, they're right, but maybe there's more
more that hasn't been said
I agree with what they say,
but can't there be another way?
Shouldn't we show support and kindness
to someone dealing with the consequences?
Surely berating him isn't going to improve things.
I wouldn't be surprised if it drives him away
I can only feel sorrow in his defense
every word against him pains me.
Am I at fault for showing loyalty to my brother in his mistakes?
I can't stop the pain.
I wish I could just get everyone to stop.
Maybe slow down.
Don't they see the pressure they've created?
The legacy that was left behind, difficult to live up to?
And once again I live with
the dangers of being an empath

You pick me up.
You lift my spirit.
You elevate my expectations.
You bring me joy.
You give me hope.
You fill my heart with song.
You encourage me
You hold my hand so tenderly.
You make me an exception.
You guide me in my weariness.

You do all of this….
When you dust me off,
Every two months or so.
When you remember,
That I exist.
When you feel,
Guilt on my omission.
When you need,
Someone to boost your ego.

I am not your empath
I cannot thrive
On your limited proclivity
Your temporary fawning
It bothers me
You make me feel so wrong
While I am expected to make you feel so right

The louder the mind
the quieter the mouth
Wolves that don’t howl
Stars that are afraid to shine
A river that only flows backwards
A moral compass that breaks from its own strength
Because the world is nothing but gray
when seen through the eyes of an empath
When darkness isn’t just behind eyelids
that flutter faster than wings
recalling the time before the storm
when everybody seemed to be worth saving
The sensitivity ties me up
and the compassion holds me hostage
while vulnerability puts a gun to my head
Yet I still refuse to pick up the knife
Because people walk out of my life
but they overstay their welcome in my mind
and I’m left shedding tears that aren’t mine
taking bullets out of a gun I’ve never shot
begging the devil to be something he’s not
It’s a burden
because the most beautiful butterflies
are laced with poison
Delicate and deadly
patiently waiting to drain me of my self-worth
Yet all I see is their pain
No one ever said forgiveness would be fair
And no one ever said being an empath would be easy

- Empath

Childish eyes see deep into me,
they know me,
they understand me,
understand what I'm going thorough,
what we are all going through.

They were the eyes of an empath.
We knew each other before and we will know each other again.

Since childhood I've felt how people feel
Able to already know fantisy from what's real
Had to dig out proof for things I just knew
I never knew how but felt lie from truth
Mood always changed when lots of people were near
I'd tell the mirror "your going insane my dear"
Knowledge became obsessed because I wanted proof if right or wrong
Nothing would silence the noise inside but found peace in songs
Able to know when something bad was on the way
Or stop someone from further pain they dished in vain
Saved two beautiful children from a sinners selfish pleasure
Absorbing the pains and feelings from all I've been stretched beyond measure
Being an empaths mean I absorb high and low energy from everything and one
Truly a gift I appreciate but the weight of the world can dissolve the fun
Anything you feel I will feel as well
Able to explain your hearts story its been dying to tell
I am rounded as a person now from love to wrath
When I say I understand I truly do, I am empath

It is the greatest act of courage
to remain soft in a world so rigid
Only the fiercest of us will
plunge into the depths of emotion
Illuminating even our darkest corners
for everyone to see
This is not weakness
This is vulnerability
And if love is the greatest
force in the universe
Then maybe strong is all
we ever have been
And all we ever could be
-Shakti o.m.

The weight of the nation upon my shoulders
It feels like,
Grief, hurt, one more word, one more goodbye, one more hug, one more kiss,
It's not over till....
No survivors, they said
No more hope, they said
Go home, they said
Do what needs to be done
I hold you all in my heart
I feel your anguish, your hopelessness, your helplessness
I feel and wish it weren't so,
But it is, but it is,
I feel the weight upon my shoulders,
Rest is miles away
A smile is too difficult to behold
Thank you all for trying
I must rest but I cannot
Beware be warned
An empath's in the house...

these days a lot of
people call
themselves
empaths

They claim to be able
to feel what
other people
are feeling
and suffer with them

"I cheated on my boyfriend
with his brother," some
girl said,
“and being the empath
that I am
I started crying along
with him when he
found out. It's hard
being such
an empath."

And there was
the guy
who got into a bar
brawl and
knocked another guy's
teeth out
and held a hand to his
own mouth and made
pain noises

I guess he
was an empath too

If you have a
social media account
and don't describe yourself
as an empath
people will think you're some
kind of monster,
a psychopath, they'll compare
you with ******

Yeah, it's a good
reason not
to use social media

If you actually
needed another

Its your
its mine
no wonder
inside
there booms
the thunder
its yours
its mine
I do see
inside
the sun
so shiny
its yours
its mine
it is clear
inside
there falls
silent tears
its yours
its mine
that is why
inside
the walls
past gone by
its yours
its mine
thats it
inside
haywire
gray static
its yours
its mine
I do care
inside
of me
you to share

Be kind to unkind people;
you have your bad days too.

I never had a care for myself,
as long as I felt alive
and did survive
I never strived
to protect my shell of skin,
until she pried me from within.

For, although I still felt numb
I lay, for once, undone
before the one who prompted
love's bittersweet curse.
The one I could not reverse,
nor find a remedy,
to stop my pain to you
from me.

When I am cut
you bleed,
and when a burn
scorches my thick hide
and guilts my inside,
as I watch you suffer for my sin.
I hurt within,
as you writhe from a blow dealt by a kin.

There is no graze or scar
upon my body which she has not felt,
no beating I have dealt
upon myself
which has not gone to her
twicefold.
My heart burns cold
at the blow that she,
loveliest of creatures,
was dealt
me.

But, you see,
I've accepted that yin to my yang you must be.

there is something inside of me that breaks
in front of every broken person out there -
and if you can find me one person that's made it
through life without being broken, well then,
my earth might just crumble where i stand -
but like i said, it's as if i mirror them,
like their emotions crawl inside of my heart,
and start to occupy my mind, and leak their
way to my tear ducts and my mouth and my limbs,
and i lose control of it, i lose it

for that brief moment, a piece of them lives within me

my sister and i are the empaths,
that's what they like to call us anyways, but
i'd like to believe we're human,
that we should all share and feel each
other's pain so that we can sleep
at night knowing we're never truly alone

i wish i had realized sooner that feeling
isn't weakness, that i didn't need to
hide something we all share, instead,
someone whispered that message to me
in slumber and i woke up with the idea
in my head thinking it was mine

as i begin to unravel ego i realize that
my ideas have been circulating for
longer than i can conceive,
and the more i meditate on the notion
the more i realize that i've just got to
keep the current going, keep stirring
that *** and send the ideas on to
someone else who might be able to
find sustenance within them

i've always known i'd be a nurturer,
but i never thought i possessed the
nourishment people needed within
the fibers of my very being, that we
all possess just what we need, what the
world needs, it's already inside of us,
waiting for someone, or something,
to draw it out

i overthink.
i over love.
i over feel.

i am the sea
or i am nothing.

What is this, is this empathy?
I can feel your pain - it's all about me,
I don't want to be the one in equal pain,
When there is no experience that I have to gain,
From hearing your words, your story,
For the most part, I'd find it boring.
But you recant it with such fervour,
That in protest I dare not murmur,
The urgency in which I want it to halt,
Neither of us are at fault,
You want to connect, to tell me your past,
I'm really just hoping the tale does not last,
It hurts, these feels, I have for you,
Your wounds are old, but for me they are new.

Light and Source self-alignment it read.
That's what I'm here to spread.
Light is love.
I give up though.
It's a battle already dead.
Carrying the weight of the world's pain on my shoulders.
It's too overwhelming.
Take it back.
I don't want this purpose but it's not up to you.
This is who you are, get over it.
Stand up, ***** them, let them hate you because you love them.
That's what Jesus did.
Amen.

An empath and a mirror walk into a bar

and the empath says

I see myself in you.


Let me buy you too much wine and

kiss your collarbones and

twiddle my fingers on your skull.


and the mirror says,

Yehoshua (what a beautiful name)

Yehoshua, the prophet. I am so tired

of doing the right thing

My knees are sore I

want

my field of poppies.


So the Prophet says You can rest in my field

if you let me know you, the parts you keep

tied to your hips like bells, or like weights

that clinking prisoner's hymn strapped to your chest.

Know that I know you, even

the parts you left unsaid (Especially those.)

He says  

I want to have

my parents' strength.

I want a stranger to ***** in my bed.

I want to crawl into your head and hurt you with

your reflection. Open up your mouth and

I can put the words in myself, but I can't promise my

tongue won't taste like 20 years of forged metal

(And I

can't promise every pretty girl in town doesn't have

my metallic tinge behind her teeth.)


(So she says)

Why can't you stay still?

(and the Prophet says)

I'm always running late

(and she says)

*I've stopped running

So I watched the girl I loved cry over a girl who wasn't me
Wondering how someone so beautiful
Could be so
Broken.
But I still held her her in my arms
As she wept
Running my fingers through her hair
And down her back
Trying to piece back together what I could of her
While slowing breaking off
pieces of me

It's not a blessing
it is more like a curse
a life of bad decisions
only makes it worse

it's like a lesson
their pain through my verse
I can't think clear enough
to put my thoughts first

The moon is shining,
Doing its utmost to raise werewolves
Fireflies are stuck up there too
Sometimes they flicker out
They begin to cry
Tears pouring down
And not man nor beast but wind howls now

My little slice of the world's diorama stage
Is full of drama and love and sorrow and beauty
- And here I am
Tasting other people's feelings.
Letting their honey drip and slide
As ecstasy through these veins
Positively high on the depth of these windows
I perve at lives that dance in poetic sentence
But they know the blinds are open
And sometimes, just sometimes,
They catch a glimpse through my own
Hearts full of same excitement
Curiosity
Satisfaction
As they flip through my pages

there is no pain
like knowing what is coming,
feeling the crushing weight
of something i can do nothing about
no matter how hard i try.
it's exhausting.
it makes me want to dig deep inside myself and go there to hide,
refusing to deal with the world, with this life,
and all the people in it any longer.
i can't help them,
i can't stop them.
but i feel everything they do,
before they do.
especially their pain.

I don’t know when it started.
I guess it was always there,
my ability to feel ones energy.
My ability to read tarot cards.
People, even complete strangers, are shocked at my
pinpoint accuracy.
How is it possible that I dream and my dream
becomes a reality?
Through vibrations and voices, I hear statements,
I feel what Spirit wants me to deliver.
A year before my mom went to heaven, I heard
A voice loud and clear, “this will be her last Thanksgiving.”
November 2021, my mom went to be with the Lord,  
a few days before Thanksgiving.
Why was I chosen with this extraordinary gift?
Why was I chosen to deliver messages?
I channel messages and feel spirits near.
But I’m glad I can hear them and not see them.
I’ve dreamed of loved ones coming into my sleep,
Passing on messages for me to deliver.
Honestly, I think it’s pretty cool, my abilities
have gotten stronger through the years.
I am happy that a part of me can do such a
wondrous thing.
People may not agree with me using my gift,
at first I felt the same way, but people are being helped,
their concerns are being put to rest. I am blessed when I
help a person who needs answers.
Like it or not, I am here to stay, or at least my
Intuitive abilities are.

I have clung to every word and story they have given me
Feeling the way they soak so far through my skin
It seeps and sits in my heart.

Sadly, you can not hold me like I have held you.

I am a cactus sitting alone in the dry desert night.