Thicker Skin They Say

susannp4, Pixabay

Give me thin thin thin.
Let me show the veins.
Let me feel the pains
so when sorrow carves,
my soul can hold joy’s ocean.

I still have boundary and skin,
but I want to bridge the distance.
Callousing is not my goal.
I want the permeable membrane,
the habit of compassion.

Thick skin won’t let light
or singing penetrate.
Is it worth what’s saved,
if tenderness get turned away?
Are safely thick-skinned people happy?

Neither beauty in art
nor intimate caring
nor viewing of others as kin
can easily be birthed
through heavy strata of protection.

May my skin drop its layers of armor.
may sensitivity with its delicate strength
burst forth like cosmos,
or bleeding hearts,
like primrose, or echinacea.

As my heart-skin grows as strong
and elastic as spiderwebbing,
may I feel the joy and pain of those I love.
May that circle grow ever and ever wider,
while empathy becomes our highest value.

©Susa Silvermarie 2026

photo by hapth, Pixabay