People sometimes say that you can't fake chemistry... People sometimes say that opposites attract... People sometimes say that they don't like poetry... People sometimes say that there is no one more perfect person to talk to than someone who "gets you" - someone who understands you, someone who does not judge, someone who believes in you, someone who is intrigued by you, someone who sees themselves you, someone who is on the same path as you - because, like you, they are in every way a kindred soul and a fellow empath. People are sometimes drawn together... people cannot live in a vacuum... people sometimes work better when they are working through things and exchanging things with each other... people who have spent too much time seeing others only on zoom have to take some time to take a step back, to take a step out of a frame, and to meet people outside of the four walls, the ceiling, and the floor of a room. People are capable of perceiving multiple layers of life at once - but when it comes to understanding all sides and all depths of something it can take some time to gain enough experience and wisdom for them give back a learned, measured, and an intelligible response... people are willing to give a little to get alot - but some people do not want to wait for what they expect is coming to them. People live in worlds of their own making that overlap with the internal and the external worlds of others... some people are happy to talk, some people are happy to listen - but most people are unwilling to talk from the heart, to listen with more than their ears, to think about anything or anybody other themselves, because they are just waiting for their time to shine; however, there are those people whom we have all met, who we may have known for years or perhaps we only knew for a short time, who know the true meaning of give and take - because they can always cut through the static of chaos and find the light hiding behind the darkness of lies that some people like to tell - like some kind of truth seeker with the profound gift of true empathy.
empathy
My Poem ‘Sensitive Skin’
I feel every raindrop;
I feel in awe after every burst and touch of the sun;
I feel so much strength of spirit and drive of life,
I could never give up;
I feel like my story and who I am
is written all over my skin.
I have always been sensitive to the thoughts,
the feelings, and the emotions, of those around me,
and those who are connected to me;
I would be there for my true friends until the very end,
even if doing so were to push me to life’s edge;
I live and feel every experience deeply,
as if they were my last,
and I often immortalize my memories in as much depth
as possible in a poem, or three;
I will keep going until I no longer can –
and that is my eternal pledge.
My skin is fair, and when the sun is as hot as can be
I burn to the colour of a lobster;
you would think that after everything I have seen
and been through, my skin would have become thicker
and as hard-wearing and as smooth as leather;
my skin still has impressions made on it
from when I was a child –
that have not worn away, and never will be worn away;
I still have the impressions of kisses,
and scars from times gone by,
that remind me of things and people,
every single day.
Every mark made on me is indelible,
and if seen under ultraviolet light
my skin would be like a piece of parchment,
or a creased manuscript,
that has been screwed up, thrown away,
rewritten, amended, over and over again,
that no matter what is done to it
can still be read and understood;
it is comforting for me to always remember
and see where I have come from,
and who was influential in making me Me.
Empathy, sensitivity, caring, creativity,
and an extraordinary memory,
is something that is in my blood;
the wear and the why of something,
and how something appears years after
it first originally came to be,
tells its own wonderful story.
Our skin is a map of where we have been;
our skin is touched and sculpted by our environment:
by nature, by the wind, by the rain, by the sun,
by the moon, just as the grand and great canyons,
valleys, mountains, of Earth, have been;
our skin is like the front cover
and the back cover of a living book,
in which an amazing, phenomenal, unique,
and individual story of a person’s life lies within;
there is no greater question than that of a person’s skin,
especially if you are like me, and you have sensitive skin.
Mark The Poet 