Day of an Empath

A rather silent day, calm.
Particularly uneventful.
People moving around close to each other,
But essentially in their own separate worlds.
And I, in mine.
But unfortunately (or not?)
My world absorbs the energies of others’.
Their vibe seeps into my skin and makes a home in my body.
X’s life is sad today, she probably cried in the shower. (I want to help but she has a smile here)
Y is just tired.
It isn’t visible but he hasn’t slept for a while now.
(I want to help but he won’t let me)
Z is numb; his energy stagnating but
Shattering.(I want to help but he doesn’t open up)

And I.
I just sit there.
Filling up to the brim.
Like a wine glass on a Saturday night.
Helplessly stationary, but bustling with waves inside.
By midnight.
I get full and a little more.
Enough for me to spill-over
And make myself a mess.

Saturated to that extent
How doesn’t one explode?
How does one explain the whys and stick to the don’ts?
How do I say that I’m sad
But nothing really happened to me?
How do I make sense to you,
When you don’t even believe in energies?
How do I not spill-over every night?
How do I make you stay?
When I’m clueless how to make you understand,
The intensity of an empath’s day ~ Devika Sinha

How much do you even cry?

Me?

Oh very much actually!

I’m this gooey, leaking heap of emotions.

Not subtle ones, oh hell NO!

Each feeling hits me like a fucking natural disaster.

Each hurt raging up like a sixty feet tsunami wave.

So, the cracks in my eyes are bound to leak that way.

 

So what?

Everyone has disasters within.

And I choose mine quite well.

I’m not very scared of drowning,

But famines terrify me to death.

I’d prefer torrential rain on my cheek,

Than a barren landscape in my chest.