Sometimes I can feel my soul absent from its room,
It sneaks out its bedroom window without mind to obscure its escape,
It runs away once a year and opens up my mind to unspeakable things,
Like devils on Halloween,
Or people on the Purge,
And it’s those violent urges that purposes the Holy Trinity of mind, heart, and soul because if it was up to one alone I’d be reaping every bad deed my troubled mind has sown.
Every inconvenience inflicted by another person, every sly comment mumbled under the breath, every unspoken assumption demonstrated with their actions would boil the red in my veins,
Every discomfort, every single cause of pain,
Every heartbreaking, every healthy relationship another person refused to sustain; would end in big violence,
So now when I notice my soul has left, I just impatiently wait for it to come back; sitting in silence.