I never felt my soul move until a couple years ago.
Wasn’t even sure I had one.
Beginning to think that somethings you don’t fully comeback from.
Time doesn’t heal everything, you just have to live with it sometimes.
This seems natural: You go on living and accomplishing goals.
Climbing over mountains and the dead bodies of your peers that gave up.
Hoping that one day you stumble onto someone else who is just like you.
Broken, but functional.
Wayward souls that hung up their weapons some time ago.
You both stopped fighting when you felt your souls jolt for the first time.
Like being shaken out of a deep sleep.
Eyes opening to an empty room with a blank note on the nightstand.
You try to fill it with your own assumptions of what happened.
An almanac of sorts.
But, here I am.
Afraid to breathe.
Wondering if I can take another risk like that again.
Haven’t felt true touch in a long time.
Sure I’ve had my pleasures explored and my thoughts brimming with lust.
But it’s been some time since I’ve chiseled what love means into the roof of someone else’s mouth.
Melting dragon glass in the process.
I’ve been sliding down the stalactites of a long abandoned ice cave on the daily.


Reaching into my past hoping that an old flame can save me.

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