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Infused

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My heart aches with the emotions of others, emotions that have nothing to do with me but ones that I cannot seem to block out.
These are not mine, these emotions, these foreign things. I did not ask for them. I do not want them.
But I feel them nonetheless and I despise those people for it. I do not want to feel their pain and crushing depression on top of my own. I don’t want their heartache.
I can’t seem to catch my breath, the world is closing in around me, and it hurts to breathe. I look around frantically, desperately, for a way out, but there is none.
There they all stand, their emotions blocking every door marked exit, closing in on me like walls and I am suddenly claustrophobic. I struggle for air- beg and plead for it- but they just stand like statues, so wonderfully mute.
I know that fighting is useless, that I must give in. I cannot close my heart against everyone and it would be foolish to try, for emotions seep in unwanted regardless.
I am scared; of feeling too much and of feeling too little. I cannot seem to find a happy medium because happy is an emotion that has been lost in the chaos.
My soul is infused with the emotions of others and my own have been lost in the pandemonium. I no longer know if what I feel is my own or what someone has made me feel.
Perhaps I’ll never know.



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