The Fabric of Our Souls.

The fabric our souls is thin and worn. We must be gentle and love tirelessly.

I think, perhaps, some of us were just born with thinner fabric making up our beings. We came into this world, slightly worn, needing hands that touch us without tearing, seeing us for who we are. Something to be cherished, caressed, loved with the respect that we may not last in this world.

Sometimes we are born into the wrong hands and sometimes we fall into them. We feel the deep tears in who we are. We wonder why those around us don’t seem to have these gaping holes. These spots where they’ve been stretched beyond their limit. They don’t have the memories of not being able to hold up under the weight of pulling pressure. The fabric slowly giving free under the weight of something it was never meant to carry.