Sometimes i remember
The nights of alone
Not laying in bed just by myself
But truly, completely, alone.
Its dark outside
But that doesnt compare
To how dark it is inside
This house of flesh.
Skin, bones, muscle
I learn every day about them,
How they move, how they express
But not how they love.
Isnt it crazy
We use these parts to love
But these parts alone arent anything
Other than bodies just touching bodies.
What about thoughts?
Are thoughts love?
A human brain has thoughts
From the time its born to death.
When do we formulate thoughts of love.
To our mom when she nurses?
Or our dad when he checks for monsters?
Dolls, toys, trucks, when is there love?
But the soul is different.
There is no soul scan
Or soul therapy.
It just, is.
Its alive without being woken up
Its there when everything is broken
But what is it filled with?
Spirit, passion, love.
It is not in our bodies to love
It is not in our brains to love
It is in our soul
Our third part.
Maybe that is whats missing.
I forgot to feed you.
Youre withering away
Like anything would.
A body without food is broken
A brain without books is empty
And a soul without nuture,
What happens then?
Broken. Empty. Death.
A soul without nurture is dead.
Nothing happens without a soul.
No life, no love, no awakening.
Was my soul here from the beginning?
Is there a start and end to you?
There is to my body and my brain
But what about you?
