Written by Jacob Ibrag
It’s the free soul that carries weight,
searching for an appropriate vessel to reanimate.
‘This time it’ll be the right one,’ yet if it isn’t, it’ll have to
wait another lifetime. I caught myself romanticizing about
yesterday. As much as I wanted to forget, there was still some
part of me that wanted to hold to what had happened. Being
a prisoner becomes easy after awhile, we get used to
the small spaces of our own confinement.