Soul

I remember when the world broke in,

To rip apart my soul; for years after that one event,

I thought myself not whole,

My hours were spent with trying,

To fix it up with tape and glue,

Until one day, I discovered,

Everyone else was broken too; here we were with pieces,

Of ourselves in both our hands,

So fragile and so open,

That I began to understand,

Maybe I’d been greedy,

To want my soul all to myself,

When it could be a lot more helpful,

In the palms of someone else,

Now every time I go somewhere,

I leave part of me behind,

And collect all of the pieces,

Of others’ souls that I can find,

So when I’m meeting someone new,

It’s not just me they get,

Of all the others that I’ve met.

My life’s become much more significant,

Now that it’s home to things so small,

And if this is what is “broken,”

I do not mind at all.

But also tiny fragments,

We leave behind

A single hair on anyone’s head

Like footprints in the sand

My only wish is I didn’t hurt anyone