Sensitive Soul (poem)
I’m a sensitive soul living, in an insensitive world.
A world that hurts, too much.
A world that denies love. And encourages fear.
Even of. love.
A world not built for me. But needs me.
I’m a sensitive soul; I hurt for the hurting. I bleed for the wounded. I cry for the sad. I feel for the numb.
I’m a sensitive soul; I show up for the delinquent. I stand brave for the scared. I remain open for the closed. I give for those who take.
I’m a sensitive soul; I find solitude comforting. Too much world time, can destroy me, and almost did.
It’s a battlefield, I’m the target, who’s not always armed well.
I’m a sensitive soul; I speak up, speak out, lend my voice, my heart, my strength.
I’m a sensitive soul; I know when you are lying, to me, to yourself. I know things I cannot explain. I feel. It’s who I am. Connected to pretty much, everything.
I’m a sensitive soul; I see and know too much sometimes. The pain and suffering, not always mine. I feel pain, like I feel love, deeply. An empath, they tell me.
I’m a sensitive soul; Who’s often misunderstood, dismissed confused anxious.
It’s not easy living in a world you don’t fit in.
I’m a sensitive soul; Tried to medicate, dim, numb, anything
to fit in.
But we cannot.
We were never meant to.
We are different.
To prepare us.
For we are sensitive souls; Born into a world we don’t fit in —fighting, to create a new one.