Much too often it detaches itself from me to feel the freedom of the room. It hates being bounded by the confines of my all too human body - something I try to understand.
So I let it go.
I watch it waltz around with the other freed souls. I watch it shake hands with strangers, smile wide at passerby, and strike up conversations with unknowns. I watch it wiggle around in the center of a bustling crowd, not caring because it's independent and unrestricted.
And f r e e.
Sometimes I wonder if that soul is really mine. Something so separate couldn't actually belong to me. But every night, when the soul is tired, it returns to the hollowed out bones in which it resides (that's me).
My soul - that wild, tangled, maddened soul - is
How crazy is that?
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Thank you for reading. <3