Paint Me a Pretty Portrait of Her Pain
free verse poetry

so I wiped her tears off of my face found the words she couldn’t speak and used them to color the sky pulling her pain out of its hiding spots and made us both guilty of feeling unzipped my flesh opened up my chest to show her her own heart beating my body became evidence of her liveliness
Background context:
I don’t socialize much.
It’s hard for me to do because even through a screen I can pick up on the energy of people. Especially if they’re in pain. I can also pick up the symptoms of others when they are sick.
When my neighbor went into labor I had her contractions with her. These are stories most people choose not to believe. They don’t have to, it’s not their gift.
It’s mine.
And I get exhausted feeling everybody’s everything but I know it’s a gift to have this magnitude of intuitive insight. I also know that it’s a responsibility so whatever I choose to do with it is crucial to the interwoven stories we are all living out of our lives. I choose to heal. Consequently, I heal others when I heal myself. That’s my gift. And I wrote a poem about it.
© Linda Sharp 2024. All Rights Reserved.






