From The Empath

I wish I could stop you from feeling

all the problems, child.

You’re sad and hurt,

mad or suicidal.

And one by one, I inhale

the strife

that absorbs you all through life.

I’m sorry, my dear, for I feel selfish,

Yet I can’t always live 

like I’m on my last limb

because you can’t handle yourself

in your own skin.