Untitled (May 4, 2017)

Never wanted

To be different

From other people.

But

I am.

Feeling like

I'm cursed

Or worse.

A diseased biomass

Meant to be

Put down

As a mercy.

Asking myself

Why is it

Am able to

Help other people.

And yet

Am struggling

To help myself.

Trying

To bash through

This invisible cell

That surrounds me.

As guilt

Fills my soulscape

Like a layer

Of freshly fallen snow.

After

A long and emotional

Blizzard.

Touching

All parts

Of my life.

The past

Present

And future.

As the tears

Of sadness and frustration

Roll down my face

In shame.

In wanting

To reject this "gift"

Of being hyper-empathic.

Therisa © 2017