A word hurled my way to cut deep.
Said to me because I DARED
to protect my peace.
I cut off my breast
and with that first slice went the weight
stacked from others’ troubles.
Perhaps you don’t know.
Empaths wear your woes
like tattered clothes
In the past you came here to barter
your pain for my joy.
Maybe at first you paid,
but then silently you began to steal.
Finally you were so brazen to say,
“I come here to take”
And then filled up, once again, you walk away.
But you aren’t the only one who depletes.
And in your absence you failed to see how cancer began the rebuild of me.
That cut was the start of reality,
the removal of a dark veil disguised as selfishness.
When faced with death
you realize for an empath
It’s not selfish, it’s survival.
“You’ve changed”
Meant to guilt me into care.
But I’m already there.
I care.
What’s changed is that care now comes with borders,
And that care extends to me too.