The Paradox of Sensitivity
The Paradox of Sensitivity  poetry stories
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alicejoseph
alicejoseph Community member
Autoplay OFF   •   a month ago
0:00:01 They put us in pink.

The Paradox of Sensitivity

0:00:01

They put us in pink.

Oh how delicate in that pastel hue.

So delicate that at any moment

We may just

Crumble.

Snap.

Dissolve.

The expectation is dissolution.

Our every emotion stood up

Like pins.

One blow is all it takes,

I suppose.

But who wins?

Whoever threw the ball, of course.

Who determines that possession?

Thick pockets.

Fair complexions.

Booming voices.

Full stomachs.

Healthy bodies.

Broad shoulders.

Those not plagued by this idea of sensitivity.

Of vulnerability.

Of delicacy.

Their traits act as currency,

Buys them a one way ticket.

First class.

Non-stop.

So we crash.

Our poised vulnerability disturbed

By their barreling velocity.

As if by design.

But still we apologize.

Sorry I was hit.

Sorry I could not defy the laws of physics

To stand tall

Like you.

So what are we left with?

A default to failure

By their design.

Even when we live perfectly,

As those delicate little flowers we were told to be

We suffocate in the paradox.

Be gentle, but weather every storm.

Be soft, but unbreakable.

Be kind, but never sensitive.

Because heaven forbid we be sensitive.

And feel all of the

Powerful

Encompassing

Incredible

Intimidating

Painful

Joyous

Tremendous

Feelings of the world.

Our capacity for this absorption is what makes us vulnerable.

Vulnerable to that barreling ball.

The one that decimates us

Again and again.

For living up to every standard we are told.

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