I may not have a voice but I have words. Words in my head that define my world, including you. I speak to myself while you squirm with your lies and overtones. But it’s all white noise just outside my thoughts. I’ve said more in silence than you could possibly scream along the fringes of my sanity.
I see past your illusions, past you twisted views of a life where truth and lies are two sides of the same coin. I see ahead of your intentions. Where the other side of your horizon drops off into the abyss. My sight serves me well, I see with my mind and my intellect doesn’t need eyes.
I hear your narcissistic dreams, the perpetual nature of your ego echoing around you like a foul mist. A nightmare for anyone who revolves around you. I’ve woke up; I heard the writing on the wall reverberate across time. I realized a long time ago your cries have no tears.
I feel your privilege strangling the history of my ignorance, but remember, the truth is untouchable. The truth you hide behind red doors and letters swirled in contempt. I’m written in bold print, I come from a river of fools, I’ve touched hunger and despair, but nothing makes my skin crawl like the touch of your lies.
Common sense is a lens for the world you created for the parasites that feed your history. Truth is a sense. A sense that illuminates reality, and once that light touched my skin my soul wept tears of dust for the wasted days of ole.