Elephant in the Room

Many a time the thought compels
That from our mind words should be voiced,
Yet oft we cannot bring ourselves
To say the words unspoken, out loud.

Instead, remaining quiet wins,
Ensconced in painful silence;
Waiting, hoping, wishing,
Praying for a difference.

Except that they won't notice,
Since they're too blind to see,
That you are squirming in your seat,
Oppressive weight, such gravity.

Perhaps they really thrive on it,
Taking great delight
In feeling they're superior,
They smirk, while you do shrink.

Narcissus wields this power,
The empath feels the brunt
Allowing its continuance
Encore; day in, day out.

When chiding a small child,
One voice is sure enough,
But when two chime together,
A child must become tough.

And then the child is groomed,
To feel the louder voice,
Decreed, of course they learn it,
And give it back, in thrice.

Our love so blindly keeps us there
We hope things will improve,
But darkness, feelings of despair,
Continue not to move.

The empath cannot overcome
They struggle with it, and succumb
To the abuse, the hurt, the tone
Helpless to defend their own.

Some say the empath is the weak,
Yet the day will hopeful come,
When it's revealed in simple truth
The oppressor is the one.

The oppressor is the one
Whose soul has suffered theft,
Their heart will remain empty ~
No more weeping; I have left.

Kira Braun