Empath- A Poem By Nia Rose

It’s those nights,

the ones that seem to stretch

like an old rubber band

that I wish my heart 

wasn’t made of paper.

How easy it is 

to leave lasting imprints

that stain my soul.

I am easily marked, 

impossible to erase.

With every interaction, 

I am a piece of someone else. 

I take their violent reds, 

tragic blues,

and envious greens 

and blend them into 

a picture so grotesque, 

it would bring anyone to tears.

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