Curse of the Empath

An empath

Just a ProSonderer

Nothing more

But quick to learn

every human’s soul

will be instinctively felt

just as the breeze flows

through that open window


A soul

it’s wandering to your heart’s beat

on rare occasion it deviates from the tune

nothing more


—Because you don’t acknowledge

its existence yet;

Could you truly expect to progress

in finding your soul’s mate

when you don’t even know your spirit’s home?—


A pair of souls is always made from a single star

so when you find another

that renders your talkative self speechless

or leaves your smooth conversing ways to only a stutter

Find another that leaves you in awe and wonder

that makes your chest feel comfort in the ache

when you're longing not only at midnight

but in public midday for that other


if its a flame

that just won't fade

no matter how long you stay

tell yourself to not push this one away

you're not in danger anymore


let that person breach your barricades

allow them a chance to understand your spirit’s ways

you'll soon stop automatically

encouraging them to go

the day will arrive when you won’t be itching to show them the door


chances are you'll find

nothing's worth more

then an empath finding their

lone star soul in their own time


And as a sondering empath

I understand having that


-fragile only to a certain fine-tuned touch-

translucent but sporadically opaque)

guard with others

Seems like a darkly humored folklore

a normal person’s usual day

is just a daunting notion due to exhaustion from feeling everyone's emotion

but when you meet that one

you won't just understand their soul

you'll have a brand new reading

and it’ll feel horrifyingly confusing


just remember there's a first time for everything

when that someone intuitively understands you.


This poem is about: 
My community
My country
Our world


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