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The Restless Travelers

Most empaths know that to love is pain and an endless, tiring process: to feel as though the world's weight is literally upon their shoulders. This goes in depth on the feelings that an empath feels, especially a wounded empath.

My lover and best friend walking upon the beach on a foggy morning.

I am not waiting to be found, or discovered; like the next planet or a new species.

I am waiting to be seen:

appreciated,

loved and never neglected.

You can desert me on a desolate island and leave me stranded or

you can drink from my stream of youth

and listen to my words, as they attempt to soothe a tired soul.

For travelers' feet are sore and their hearts are weary of carrying their burdens,

let me sing them a song as they pass through

may they see my intent in my eyes and feel the warmth in my heart.

I am not broken,

I am restless,

tired of loving the weary travelers who cannot love her back.

I'm tired of being the portrait of happiness and the song of loneliness.

Why won't you sing with me, and paint yourself into my portrait? 

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The Restless Travelers
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