Empathogen

I sometimes find myself
struggling to find the difference
between the dying and the dead.
wondering:
should i extend myself
through the distance
and lend a compassionate
hand, whether it's
well-received
or even recieved
at all?

it's hard to know
whether you're playing with fire
or sifting through ash
when your appendage
of emotion
has already been charred and
scarred
past the point of healing,
and for that matter,
barred from any sense
of feeling
at all.

it's taken quite a while
but
lately i've been pondering,
silently wandering
the line between
the dying and
the dead.
i dont think i'll cross
just yet.
it's taken too many miles
just to become
so close and acquainted
with this
feeling of living-
stripped of any sense of
empathic commitment
at all.