“Empath
Hearts that smell the sorrow
Soaks us up, but borrowed
It pricks the eyes like onions' stench
Instigating us to clenched
Captivating eyes with a puzzled glance
They know not the fear that it plants
All I grasp are shards of glass
I hear the sound just like the bats
Broken from the world we live in
History shuns any emotional whirlwind
I know the moment will eventually pass
The overbearing altitude
The high humidity it casts
Still, the spirit pulses its cry
I could not ignore it, no, not I
Its vibration makes such a clearing
Irrational pause, so domineering
Tears are a constant side effect
Pouring down and making a mess
I can’t form the words to comfort thee
Society bans any feelings or needs
With absolutes and shameful banes
With no remedy or comfort gained
In truth, I wish I could cure this curse
To let go and escape the populace hurt
But I can’t let this emotion pass
Because I’m an empath”
―
C.D. Warren,
The Curse Within
