ANATOMY OF THE SOUL

By A’ishat Akano

I have seen writers use souls

On their tongue, on the whiteboard

But what does it really mean?

Is it a body, dead, or one roaming about?

with thoughts on his mind? Or

maybe it’s a means to live, to be human? Or

maybe it’s an art,

the shitty ways you free yourself 

from the thousands of imaginations and emotions

that crumbles all around your world.

Sometimes I free my  mind to wander about

in search of answers.

Is the soul the body we left caged somewhere

that we are afraid to allow breathe?

Or a flower so delicate 

yet tender and easy to love?

But to me, you are me,

a combination of our past mistakes; our flaws

and also, a pride of future hesitations,  

great decisions and regretful ones.

the unconscious mind that prepares the feet

 for our journey miles before the body joins it.

and other synonyms of dispersion.