At The Edges
by Ari Bone
Souls break at the edges.
It’s slow at first, subtle, the spider web crack of the ice creaking under your foot. Like in the winter, when
you think the river is safe to cross and then you hear it:
Crack, crack, crack.
And you think, it’s fine, I can keep going, it’s only a few little cracks – but you haven’t realised the pressure
that’s already been put upon it and it’s really not fine at all.
Your soul will break first at the edges, it’ll get worn away and jagged and cracked, and maybe you won’t realise at first because your soul is like glass, but not everything is a hammer. Sometimes, it’s the words that get you first, words from the people closest to you, the ones that mean well, but then they tell you, oh so casual: you are going to hell. But they don’t mean you, of course, they mean “those people”. You know those people – and they don’t realise that those people are your people, and those people’s souls sing a song that
resonates with yours and maybe you don’t even realise what its called yet.
But it calls to you in a secret language that you have never learned, but somehow you have known since before you were born – and it calls to you in a voice so so old, and they’ll tell you that it’s new and it’s not. And they’ll tell you it’s a phase, and it’s not. What in life is permanent anyway?
This, this is a song that you know, even when it’s quiet, even when you have to hide it – Your song will always sing true through you – don’t shut it out, let it ring through your voice – be loud! – Let it call out to others, and it won’t ever break you. Because it’s you, it’s you and its okay.
A soul is fragile, sheet glass, ice with a thousand little cracks, but it’ll always hold true for you. Embrace your edges, those broken pieces, see them and hold them until they don’t hurt you anymore – because every crack is you that was, a you that could have been, and a you that is – a million versions of you, all perfect, because you are perfect.
At my edges, in those cracks, there was a me once who cried and didn’t understand what the song that their soul was singing, and there was a me once that was a she and I don’t know her anymore but I grieve for her. And there was a me once that turned 18 and thought my god, this is as far as my dreams went, and didn’t realise we could make it this far – but now I’m 10 years on, and what am I doing? I’m standing here, talking to all of you, and hoping you understand the song that my soul is trying to sing out today.
It’s okay, it’s okay, it’s okay. Take your time, take a breath, pick up your broken pieces. And I’ll help you handle them with care, we’ve all got repair work to do.
Ari Bone is an NB poet and writer, and part-time nature photographer, living in Edinburgh. Growing up on the west coast of Scotland, a passionate interest in high-fantasy novels and linguistics led them down a path into Diversity and Inclusion in their professional life. They spend a large amount of their time constructing new worlds and languages for future novels, as well as learning as many real-world languages as they can. Their writing is inspired predominantly by the works of JRR Tolkien, but also their own intersections of queerness, ADHD and aphantasia, and seeing representations of queerness and disability in fantasy worlds.
