#legacyandtruth
For that which I don’t know— built from
the bones of all the words I never spoke.
My life, if summarized, could be a quote:
_a borrowed line_, or _a borrowed joke_.
Either footnoted in memory, or discarded
as someone who misquoted hope
_____________________________________
Perhaps I’d trade in an __error__
for a single, shapeshifting __era__.
But funny how the past echoes loudest
in silence, and how legends live on not
in flesh, but in the offspring of their __legacy__.
Still— be careful not to jump to conclusions.
Don’t cut off your __spring__ just because
you mistook the thaw for drowning.
And don’t become so quick to sip judgment
that you forget: _a half-empty drink_
can still quench the right thirst, depending
on who's pouring… and who's parched.
_________________________________________
Now there are those who offer their offending
speech like confetti; those whose presence is a
soft kind of peace; a balm, a breath, a quiet release.
Then there are others whose only offering is grief
once a week, wearing Sunday suits but speaking in leaks.
I have grown to value those who live
like arrows— honest, piercing, straightforward.
Not those who bend truth into shapes that fit
their spin, sending stories spinning on a tired wheel,
toward destinations they never meant to reach.
_________________________________________
Some speak on others' names with
the boldness of ownership, but it’s all
counterfeit— a forged will, a stamped conviction.
As for me? For that which I don’t know:
it remains a wonder, and I live in awe of it.
But as for some, with their tongue dipped
in certainty; your armour is made of knowing—
but you truly know nothing at all.
Aug 3, 2025
Aug 3, 2025 at 1:28 PM UTC