A sheltered soul is not soulful.

He’s hidden with worry and exhaustion.

Because the thought of pursuing is tiring,

Is damning,

Is embarrassing.

In a space that is too wide

There’s too much interpretation for the open.

So instead he closes himself softly,

Harshly.

He’s never been told.

He’s never been asked.

He’s never known that a sheltered soul is not soulful.

He wants to lift and he wants to be more than he’s showing.

He’s started to show.

But it’s a woman’s world.

The fragility is accepted but the lesson was missed.

It’s unfair to have the privilege of so much freedom

To express,

To reflect,

To be human.

Human.

Human?

He asks softly,

Harshly.

He steps in heels to reduce the stomp

Because he wants to know

What it’s like to have a soul that is not sheltered.