A poem, formed when messaging a friend about the truth of them being good. But holding back from saying the pain they’ve nevertheless caused unintentionally. The pain of being in a dual, situation, a place of two.
The soul, a metaphor for you,
You in your totality.
You as a whole,
The closest thing to you, there is in you.
Why is it I rip mine apart, shred it unintentionally,
But at the same time, intentionlly, willingly.
I do it to be kind.
To shred my soul, so someone elses is saved the same fate.
To burn my being, to save another.
When ripping your soul apart, piece by piece, you will eventually run out of soul to rip.
Such a weird feeling that is,
The end, to a way of life,
Pain doesn’t stop, but continues through the scars
This is what can happen, when you rip apart the soul, piece by piece.