As I write my thoughts with this weightless feather, I hope my thoughts don’t weigh less than my soul. That they would hold more water than my cup of ink.
My meekness wouldn’t be confused for weakness but for likeness. Like you, I’m yet to find thyself. And through words, I work on myself.
Why does my voice choose to remain faceless? It’s a coping mechanism so I don’t become voiceless. Lights, camera, action, translate to fights, drama, and factions. So, dauntless I choose to remain, with no main genre. Fluid is my tongue, Louise. And loose terms don’t align here.
I hope both the marks on this paper and thoughts on mind remain permanent. That time will not mutually fade thee. Think before think lest thoughtless thoughts will lead to detriment. They say mind came before think, but our father thinketh before make thee. Believe and be still.
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