Being Hsp
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(A poem a friend once asked me to write about being a Highly Sensitive Person)
Being HSP:
Sound drowns out sound, I'm found overwhelmed,
...there's a chaos that's building inside.
My thoughts won't relent, my emotions are spent,
...and my angst just can't be denied.
With lights that are bright, and pains out of sight,
...this souls ecosystem is a fragile thing.
Like I'm frozen in winter, set to shatter and splinter,
...desperate for the early onset of spring.
My mind has been had, so "Am I broken too bad?"
...the nagging question stirs from within.
But, don't fret for me, nor yourself you must see,
...this isn't where our story comes to end.
We're stronger than we know, don't cut yourself low,
...being what we are is a privilege to few.
With gifts we have plenty, and we're heartfelt to many,
...those who care know there's no one like you.
Some of this may not fit, but others do, you must admit,
...we all have our own strong proclivity.
With our rich inner lives, and on subtleties thrive
...we have imagination and creativity.
Some of us are wise, some are passionate, some advise,
...we are as beautifully arrayed as the stars.
We are empathetic, some artistic, while others scientific
...lift your chin, don't give in, own HSP, it is ours.
Your compassion is unique, with kindness others seek,
...Those who know you set you apart.
Don't regret these great gifts, your word it uplifts,
...people look up to you for your deep heart.
I must leave you with this, whether unhappy or in bliss,
...we are bigger than the weaknesses we see.
Don't forget that we're rare, with this trait that we share,
...I'm thankful that you're in this with me.
Copyright © Jesse Zerlaut | Year Posted 2018
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