deepundergroundpoetry.com
Still
Sometimes if I sit really still I can feel my soul within my body. I can feel that my exterior is temporary.
My soul could sail away without my shell. I hope it does one day, but then again, who am I? Without a body, what is all of this?
What kind of being am I?
My soul could sail away without my shell. I hope it does one day, but then again, who am I? Without a body, what is all of this?
What kind of being am I?
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