The Blind Kind ‣ Page I
I, my soul, is unpure. Things are not unless it is cleared.
The world is full of locked routes unless we take a step.
My life is questionable. But I am certain. What?
My breathing is a symbol of purpose. It is what keeps me ongoing.
Yesterday was history, tomorrow is a mystery. But me writing myself down today is a gift. The breath is still with me!
02 24 2020
