LINES OF THOUGHT © 2013
From my tattered soul,
I offer you the pieces, one by one,
Each fragment, a silent story,
A sigh from one who has felt everything and nothing.
Savour my lost essence,
On the edges of what I was and will be,
Each piece is a part lived,
Of love, pain, and what I have found.
Do not expect perfection or shine,
My soul is made of scars,
But in each patch, I leave a trail,
Of one who sought among lights and crises.
Take, then, without fear or haste,
These pieces of bare truth,
For it is in sharing that the soul confesses,
Its essence, whole and raw.