Used to be the boy who was searching,
Searching for the folds inside my soul’s fabric;
letting myself crease or unwrinkle with steam pressure
as it was found necessary.
Now, I’m holding a quiet ball of anger
close to my throat and feeling the
bits of me chip out
into
quiet.
surrounded by silence,
He waits.
The man of decisiveness
knows what He would like
to come, but sees that it
is so liquid that it may
just flow around him ra-
ther than through him…
This he breathes out and
in doing so, brings a
magnet power of universal
attraction to his own will.
Little Spud In The Big Apple 
“Searching for the folds inside my soul’s fabric;
letting myself crease or unwrinkle ” brilliant!
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Thank you.
The more I write about the soul. The more it turns into this silky thing that it just floating somewhere within or without me or the character.
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Well said 👏
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