calling me a child
is a little bit childish?

It was there.
And then it was gone.
Frantically scrolling up and down I somehow knew the search was useless. The frustration streaming through my blood kept my mind off of everything else in the world. I was mad. Angry. Questioning why this would happen. Hard work pays off? Or hard work gets "accidentally" deleted by the stupid device that I have ignorantly become so dependent on. It has become our way of communication; our way of becoming something else. We try to make technology a mold of ourselves. Piling in personal information until we are left holding our entire life in our palm. We stick our faces behind 4x2 rectangles of wires and data, instead of looking each other in the eye.

But you see, the problem is, you can't bleed into a device. It won't absorb. Your feelings, your life will merely sit on top of it until your phone eventually shuts down.

But you can bleed into paper. You can write and write and only be concerned about how badly your hand is cramping. You can hold it, you can feel it. And you can hope others feel it too. You can carry it around and never worry about it becoming "outdated."

There are no upgrades.

There is only inspiration.


~pw

We're all going to die someday so nothing we do matters. Why fight to preserve life when we know its going to end someday.

Dont you DARE have the audacity to say you were good to me
when I can recall nothing but a nightmare.

why do i lie?
why do i steal?
why do i hurt the people i love?
why do i hide?
why am i full of secrets?
why do i do drugs?
why do i cry only behind closed doors?
why do i like her?
why do i like him?
why do i like both genders?
why can't i come out?
why can't i let go?
why am i still in pain?
why do i feel alone in a room full of people?
why do i do the things i do?
when will i figure out who i am?
when will i get my life together?
when will i be the weight i want to be?
when will i earn my parents trust?
when will i be able to look at my reflection?

why can't i answer these questions?

It follows you
It seems almost impossible to break free
From its cruel, hateful grasp
You think you've escaped it
But again it captures you
More tight and securely than before
Once again you are trapped
In the hands of a monster

You paint lines on your arms
In a wonderful shade of red
To prove to yourself and those around you
Your pain is as real as any other emotion
Any other feeling
Its alive, more alive than you have been for a long time
And you can feel something once again
The pleasurable sting of the crimson sea
Making its way to shore
On your virginal white skin
Now stained with scarlet puddles

Or the food you made such an effort to consume
When it makes a reappearance
Its swimming inside the lavatory
You are no longer just empty in your soul
But also in your stomach, a body part you despise,
with such a burning passion.

You may poison yourself in many other ways,
in attempt to slay this beast
Like a medication, to ease the pain and discomfort
Pills and liquor, *** and love making
Also take the edge off for a little while
And a little while is a whole lot better than nothing at all
But its not enough
Its still got you

Soon the rain will fall and
you will empty the jars of tears you collected to wash away with the debris.

Soon the rain will fall and wash away the melancholy the atmosphere is drenched in

As you watch the rain drops dance the pitter patter will remind you of a joyful period, forgotten memories shrouded by years of self-destruction

The rain will erase the ruin... the decay that surrounds you

No longer will you breath in devastation The scent of the mixture  of rain and dust will give you back life, light, and purpose

The black flower will bloom
A celebration of a new deviation
Restructuration of faith once deconstructed

Your humanity is not gone
There is hope for you yet, a tiny spark that will burst into flames and you will shine the brightest

Soon the rain will fall on your skin and it will erase the sadness in your bones.