Empathogen

I sometimes find myself struggling to find the difference between the dying and the dead. wondering: should i extend myself through the distance and lend a compassionate hand, whether it's well-received or even recieved at all? it's hard to know whether you're playing with fire or sifting through ash when your appendage of emotion has already been charred and scarred past the point of healing, and for that matter, barred from any sense of feeling at all. it's taken quite a while but lately i've been pondering, silently wandering the line between the dying and the dead. i dont think i'll cross just yet. it's taken too many miles just to become so close and acquainted with this feeling of living- stripped of any sense of empathic commitment at all.