For the Empaths

It’s a gift, you know, to feel so deeply. To be sensitive is a unique superpower. Life may affect you in ways you may not have chosen for yourself. To see people as they are instead of the mirage presented . . . it’s rare. And the world needs more rarities. So be someone who truly cares and makes time to listen. The sooner you stop wishing you were different, the sooner you can hone the special set of gifts only you have. Like a treasure hunt, we seek the gems inside ourselves to give them back to the world. And that only happens by coming to know yourself. By melting the armor we were taught to wear so young, and learning the strength it takes to be soft. Only then can we feel a piece of ourselves in every person. There is a balancing art in respecting where everyone is on their path while being patient with where we stand on our own.

The Desert Rose

Tell a woman she is beautiful

And she will forget it a moment later

Like a desert flower drowning in too much water

Whisper to her of her creativity, intelligence, and strength

And she will bloom under the hot sun

She will become a rare oasis

Breathing life into all who encounter her

The honeybee that kisses her mouth

Will carry her gift of love and pollinate the rest
of the desert

Until it ripples out in a never-ending cycle

Next time, compliment something beyond her
transient beauty

She bloomed in a harsh environment

So that you could live

Grief

Grief will come and steal your breath

It will have its way with you

Until you feel there’s nothing left

I promise grief will one day leave

But not until the pain brings you to your knees

The Fingerprints You Left on My Heart

“Do you miss him?”

“Yes,” she replied

You could see their memories

Flood across her eyes

True connections never end

Through time and distance

Her heart will mend

But a part of him

Will always exist within her

Open Your Eyes

That mind of yours that tells you to hide those wings

Because crawling would be safer

Quiet that voice for a moment

Let go of your grip on who you think you’re supposed to be

If you borrowed my eyes you would weep at the sight of yourself

How much will it take before you remove that blindfold you were taught to wear and see even a fraction of what I see?

After

I once feared losing you and becoming lost in you

Though that is what happens when your heart is outside your chest

I went over it in my mind

How she repeated the same words you had once told me

Except this time I saw through your smoke screen

I loved you without asking for it in return