It is a terrible thing to lose the soul;
dropped like keys.
To be resurrected in the middle of the street,
your chest concave,
a fishhook yanking your stomach out through your throat,
unable to clutch even a hint of yourself
as you carry a body through a life,
passively unattached to your earthly existence.
To agonize over words you were never meant to speak.
Words meant for someone else
in some other world in some other job
who, too, knows that in this attempt at life, even the most meaningful sentiment
forms dry and chalky in the mouth,
crumbling to dust and falling, shapeless, before a phrase is even finished.
To realize you had been full all that time you thought you were empty.
It is a terrible thing to lose the soul,
To know, perhaps, you’ll never be whole.
Georgia Ladd is a Boston-based poet, playwright, novelist and sometimes actor. She is a recent graduate from Boston University with a love of all things creative and a passion for big ideas.