Soulful Inheritance

If my soul has an age–

(Which–I don’t think it does)

I think I would be at least

A thousand years old.

A millennium seems abbreviated

For the way I feel.

Honestly, to put a number on it

Is limiting– I believe

I simply must be immortal.

Not by some sort of magic, but that

My soul, much like yours– is recycled.

I am convinced

I used to be other people. I feel so deeply

For everyone and everything, I don’t think it’s possible

For my brain to be purely a fresh seed

Grown into adulthood. My body

Is certainly a limited, impermanent vessel, it has

No connection to my past perspectives

But I don’t think it makes any sense at all

To insist that a soul is brand new–

How else would anyone know what to do?

Where do you think these instincts, these urges

These mis-matched fleshy imprisonments–

How could you explain trans people

Besides a soul that got dropped into

A seed that doesn’t agree with it?

I don’t think it’s possible

For us to exist

Without a little bit of soulful inheritance.

And honestly, if you think

You’re totally original,

You might have some other problems.