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."

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