whatever souls are made of, I'd love to watch them
in their bare bones and swirls of color
darken, burn, and mold together
rather than just our faces. I'd like to sit
and observe each orb of love and hatred,
some consumed and lost to apathy, some bright
one way or the other, I'd love to see what happens
every time I meet someone new, every time
I lose someone old. I'd love to watch my heart flicker
and to know for sure the right or wrong by the
light I show the world- I'd love to see it, pure,
so that it's no longer a war of lies and masks and faces
I'd love to hold the raw, stinging, spitting essence
of someone close to me, so they can't deny it anymore
and I can't deny it anymore- the world would be good,
I swear, if we'd all just let go and open our doors
(although I'd like to see yours- I don't know if I could.)
the fundamental problem of vulnerability is that we don't want to give our own. We all want everyone to tell the truth except for us- because we're so afraid that we want to see the whole picture and not risk our own selves. So in the end, there is no truth because everyone's soul is locked away out of fear.