Soul Cracks (A Ramadan Poem)
"Tear here," his soul whispers.
And he does.
"And here," it adds.
And he tears.
The blood bonds pull back, the cobweb of relations
Swinging aside,
Revealing the next rip.
Peeling back the thick emotions
Layering his essence,
He spills secret after secret
-suffocated under the folds.
Soft sheens flip back quietly, easily,
But his screams crack in the air as
He heaves his desires, dreams, and beliefs from their graves,
The dirt showering, caking his nails.
Forced to continue until he finds the abused soul, whimpering
In the corner of its cell.
It throws its arms up, warding off the soft light
That billows open through the open cell gate at last,
Sudden and unabashed.
Hot wet tears crash and tumble down his face.
He claws at the prison walls he inadvertently cemented
In his ignorance,
And feeds the soul what he can
Before he soaks his murky layers
And hangs them to dry,
Once they're clear, he blankets his shivering soul
And holds it close, telling it, "Never again."