Sensory Suicide

They gave me names before they gave me answers,

Called me broken when I felt too much.

Prescriptions, empty stares and patronizing questions,

Like a pill could silence everything I touch.

I walk into a room and feel the fractures,

Every smile concealing something underneath.

I don’t just see the sorrow in their faces—

I feel their fucking heartbreak underneath my skin.

There’s a word for what I am,

A name for what I can’t escape.

I’m not possessed, I’m not defective—

I just feel what others can’t take.

Sensory suicide—

Walking into crowds I know will kill the calm.

Every stranger’s pain becomes a bullet,

Every hidden wound becomes a bomb.

Sensory suicide—

A thousand emotions crashing into mine.

I step into the storm with open senses,

And lose another piece of myself each time.

The grocery store becomes a thousand stories,

The subway turns to chaos in my veins.

Every stranger carries hidden devastation,

And somehow I absorb it all the same.

I feel the man who’s smiling through his heartbreak,

The woman who’s pretending she’s okay.

I feel the child who’s terrified of losing

The only thing that’s keeping fear away.

So I stopped leaving my apartment,

Stopped answering the outside world.

Because every crowded room became a maelstrom,

And every stranger’s sorrow pulled me under.

Sensory suicide—

Walking into crowds I know will kill the calm.

Every stranger’s pain becomes a bullet,

Every hidden wound becomes a bomb.

Sensory suicide—

A thousand emotions crashing into mine.

I step into the storm with open senses,

And lose another piece of myself each time.

Noise-canceling headphones couldn’t save me.

Isolation only made it worse.

I tried drowning everything in chemicals,

Tried starving human contact from my world.

But silence isn’t empty when you feel this deeply—

It leaves more room for everything to breathe.

Every emotion I refused to carry

Came back screaming twice as loud in me.

THIS ISN’T WANTING TO DIE!

THIS IS WHAT IT FEELS LIKE TO LIVE!

Walking through a crowd

With every soul screaming through my skin!

One heartbeat—

Then another—

Then a thousand more collide!

I’m not chasing death!

I’m just drowning while I’m alive!

Sensory suicide—

Every crowded room becomes a war.

Every stranger’s pain comes rushing through me,

Every heartbeat leaves another scar.

Sensory suicide—

Not a death wish—just a world too loud.

I walk into the storm because I have to,

Then crawl back out beneath the crowd.

There’s a word for what I am.

A name.

I’m not defective.

I’m not possessed.

I’m an empath.

And sometimes walking into a crowded room

Feels like dying

Without ever fucking dying.