Sometimes in the dead of the night, we could hear the chilling cry of a fox in the distant forest. The darkness and the hair-raising howl reminded me of my own darkness and pain as I grew older. Our lives were not always filled with childlike bliss.
a sorrowful tale of neglect
a narrative hushed by apathetic stares.
Chiselled by her so-called lover
she lay on a bed of deception
blurred to her spectators
and their blasé attitude.
As an empath, we feel other people’s emotions as our own and carry the pain that is not ours. I know of some who are always ‘there for others’ but of ‘others not being there for them.’ The fatigue comes from giving out too much and not receiving any in return.
We abandoned God to our list of protests
blaming Him for miseries we endure