Soil for My Soul
Hold my hand,
the wind whispers
I will kiss the wounds
on your soul,
on your skin
the dress of your spirit.
Breathe in,
breathe out
you are still here
do not listen to them
Depression
is the wound
that isn’t healed yet.
Look inside,
drop some tears on your past.
travel back
to heal the present.
go visit
without the baggage of fear.
travel to that day
where you were hurt.
The soul
on your skin
is your wisdom,
is your happiness
Take from that day
the impermanence
of anything that will happen after,
and come back
without carrying the past.
Throw away the pills.
They were good for a moment
to keep you asleep,
to help you stay
in the shell of ice; it is freezing.
Wake up.
I have a warm cup
of tea with rose leaves,
a few drops of tears
of love and care
that I give back
to you, my love,
my second self.