Sensitives

We are the Sensitives

It is our Gift and Curse

to carry that double edged sword.

Love and Anguish,

Ecstasy and Despair

all the muses who tug at our soul.

We are the Empaths and the Victims.

We are the ones who feel your emotions most deeply.

We Dance with you in your highest moments,

Cry with your deepest hurts.

We feel our own Mirth and Turmoil

Rage and Sadness

Open bare and exposed

sharing more than one should

unable to measure out

appropriate portions to the world

We are the poets, the artists, the musicians.

We are the ones

who bleed verse and rhyme,

form and colour

Red hot energy

And deep deep Blues

Joy and Melancholy

The ones who Feel

We wear our hearts in full view

and witness those who shrink away,

lest they connect to their own hearts.

Many erect walls to their feelings,

like a callous on a wound

barriers surround towering stone castles,

only viewed from afar.

We are the ones who's thin fences

cannot hold back the flow of emotions.

We do not have the stones

to build a calm but empty fortress.

There is no moat, no drawbridge,

with chain rusted from lack of use.

No watch tower with guards ever vigilant

to warn of approaching storm or incursion

Our gates swing freely.

too open, too accessible

Understand, we may not have chosen this place, this role

this Gift and Curse,

but I for one

would rather spend my life

fixing fences,

feeling elation and pain,

then to sit in a Cold Stone Castle

and wonder of the world beyond the parapets.

Fearful of true Feelings

locked all but forgotten in a dank dark dungeon.

Hold me, when I need it

and I shall hold you too

Sir  8/20/97    © 1997 all rights reserved.