Musings # 72 - Edge of Empathy (published in POEM)
EDGE OF EMPATHY
No vault inside me to store
your heartache,
keep secure your secrets.
More sponge, pore-bearer,
sodden. Squeeze me
dry and empty. A wall
to hold me at safe remove?
Too cold, too far, dressed
in a long black robe. I wish
your words could wash
over me like rain
– the temperature of tears –
and as from a spun umbrella,
these drops would fly
out, out and far away.
Yes, this is a dying. But not
the skinbag-body
full of blood, sinew and bone.
Only our ideas – hovering
bubbles that life in time
will shatter and pop.
You have no clue how raw
your words rub
my own regrets,
secreted within and impossible
to remove. Forgive me.
I set the clock for
how long I can bear
to listen,
and imagine a vault
outside me. In it, I lay down
your woes – heavy
as feet encased in concrete –
lock the door,
and, for both our sakes,
throw away the key.