Key to My Good
My mind in the know of what is supposed to be good, in truth is a terrible thing. No need to feel what is right or what could be right. No one will feel what I feel; instead they feel what they see. If the Lady Judgment is my fate, my blindness is going to decide. Your own true strength is not in words but in the sky and the way we scream to it. My thoughts don’t decide why people act this way; my volume cannot express why my whispers change seasons. Instead, my scream shakes no one but the very ears I hope to see with. My sport is not what people see, it’s what people think that I see. My skills are not limited to what I choose; my skills are limited by how far I am willing to go to see those stars. I see what people do not see. I feel what people have yet wanted to leave behind. I remember the times that not only the sidelines can see, but what most people believe that I am not capable of remembering. I am the exit to that door at the end of mankind; the key to what people think that those beat, beat, beats that are in my state. The sounds that I hear are not something that people can change; the way I want to say those sounds makes it even louder. Drawing the sword does not make one strong, but the sound it makes is the time that turns tables. If someone is mindful of what my lines can create, then they will link today’s moments to not just a breath, but a memory.


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