Writing

I sat
curled in a ball
under the scorching stream.
Blistering water 
drawing a flushed mosaic on my back.

I misinterpret what you mean,

I cannot quite decipher words,

Your voice is sweet, your love is pure,

But who is all this pure love for?

I’d wait for you,

i am an empath

tears from you

become tears from me

i am an empath

i feel no emotion

only secondary

i am an empath

Honesty can be a cool breeze, or the blade of a knife cutting into your skin.

It can lift you up or it can pull you down.

Honesty is usually meant in the best of intentions.

But sometimes it still hurts.

Things I Know About You: 

Take the risks that scare you

Not because

There is no risk

But because 

You may shrink into yourself

If you don’t grow yourself.

I can not promise

That I am the best place

To be