set free

I grind stone to a fine powdery dust
As a rehearsal
Hoping some day I could do the same
For my soul
Which lies heavy, chunky, gradually solidifying
Within me

He talks to me in broken sentences
Tells me
From the time I was a child
I wished to flow
From the time I saw
I wished not to be everlasting but just happy
From the time I understood
I knew you for what you are
A thin, opaque, perforated sheet of plastic
Light not passing through
Along with me, held captive by you
From the time I could talk
I wished for meaningful conversations
But all you could do was mumble
Like looking within you was beyond you

We rarely talk now, me and my soul
Me because of the guilt and my soul because its pointless
But we sit sometimes, side by side on the bank of a river
Staring at rippled images of our selves
Drowning, melting, fading like liquid dreams
And then sometimes he looks sideways and looks at me
And I look right back

I try and tell him that I am trying
I am trying to grind the stone to a fine powdery dust
As a rehearsal
For a day when I would be able to grind myself
For my soul
For a day when I would be able to reduce myself to dust
A pile of dust
And be blown away and mix with the waters of this river
Mixed with liquid dreams
And set my soul free
And pray for it to be happy