You consume everything,

Everyone, around you

Once they've been drained,

they're tossed aside

Like yesterday's trash

And still, you go back for seconds

Mooching off those who love you,

Stealing every penny away,

You keep taking,

More and more

Slowly, you destroy everything

They are

And still, you go back for seconds,

Such a vicious appetite

Never quite satiated

Yes, it's hard,

The world being constantly created,

But repeating, doing the same,

Plagiarizing , or just saying some thing,

When you know it's not you,

That did the sweating,

That tore yourself apart,

That is a sin.

God does not strike down for it,

But if you Rod Stewart your way,

Through life,

It is dust and dirt that you kick up,

Nothing living,

Nothing worthwhile.

This is not to say we shouldn't learn,

Teach the old art, drink the vintage wine,

But if all we do is scurry away, in the basement of our minds,

Then the world we bring about,

Is just rotten.

your pride, your royal majesty,

is far too great for me to like

you pound your iron fist against

the castle walls, which crumble down.

gold and silver tapestries

and brightest chandeliers once burned

before you pounded iron fists

before the walls came falling down.

your pride, your royal majesty,

lies far too much excessively

beyond the borders of your realm

a lonely kingdom you preside.

o’er hills of gray which wandered lost

and streams of gentle, quiet blue

proudly, broadest meadows grin

and stand up to your fearsome wrath.

I did not know

I had the capacity to feel wrath

until I experienced you,

my friend.

The weight put on my shoulders

pulled me down until not even

my dreams flew.

My body only knew three states:

utter numbness, searing pain, or electrifying anger.

One thing you did not realize,

was that weight pressing down make the atoms

conform to the container;

the smaller the container, the faster the atoms will go.

You may have pressed me down, but my

rage burns through my body

until not even my voice and false

bravado can hide the anger you have

put me through.

I will find a way to make you pay.

If not now,

someday.

I will be waiting

Burning rage,

Seething hatred,

Blazing for seemingly no reason

Flames exude, warding off

The fearful souls around

They scatter, having known

Such inexhaustible fury

Time and time again

They know better

Than to remain in the line of fire

As Wrath marches,

Razing through concrete jungles

And countryside plains,

Screams of pain erupt,

Filling the thick, smoky air

Fighting a pointless, but personal war,

Destruction wrought, lives lost

Wrath is feared by all

Fire and brimstone in her fury filled gaze

Burning her enemies, forever scarred.

She dances around the ashes and blaze,

A wicked smile bears teeth, her face unmarred.

Death abounds, surrounds, holds her in its maze.

A game she thought to play, leaves her in shards.

For Wrath creates victims, ripping out hearts.

Lives left damaged, long after it departs.

I won’t know when it’s happened. When I’ve succumbed, finally. When my mind will slip quietly from here to, elsewhere. Will I sit unmoving as I live a pleasant life behind my unseeing eyes? Will the entreaties of my loved ones fall on deaf ears that hear only remembered words of days gone by or dreamed up in the mists of my addled mind? Will I awaken one morning and find myself alone with strangers that call me a name I don’t remember, entreat me to recall people and places that mean nothing to me, then cry when I don’t remember? Will I die in life, leaving those who love me to mourn while I still walk among them, a ghost that looks like me, emptied of all the memories made and shared, the years lived, the love given and received?

Worse still, will I have fleeting moments of lucidity? Will I have bursts of light in my darkened mind when I know that I have forgotten something, someone, very important? That what I can’t remember is causing harrowing pain? Will I briefly glimpse the world as it is, revealing my tenuous, no, nonexistent, grasp on reality? Will I reach out to caress the cheek of my beloved, glistening with tears, only to forget who and why I raised my hand toward him? 

Or, worse yet, will the faces hidden in the bathroom marble and the cloudy sky, the voices that whisper in empty rooms, the shadows that move when the night is dark and moonless, become my reality? Will the face I have loved so long I know it better than my own become that of a monster? Will my nightmares wake and live, enveloping me in an endless dark night while I slumber awake, a living corpse to love and life, my face etched with terror, eyes ever turned inward to a world steeped in horror? Will I scream, trembling with fear, running from those to whom I once ran, who only wish to soothe and comfort? 

I may not know when it’s happened. But, I know it will. 

Once upon a time,

There was a young woman

Who didn't see

The value of life,

It's inherent beauty

Lost on her chestnut eyes

Her father drank,

Day in, day out,

It was always

The same dull gray,

Color drained from every

Former joy of life

Her heart beat,

But only from strife,

Nothing else enough

To make her feel,

So many emotions forced

Everyday, the girl

Donned a familiar mask,

Hiding the hate,

The resentment festering

Far down, deep within

To state it simply,

The young girl

Wanted nothing more

Than to die

Everytime her parents fought,

Fueled by the influence

Of that toxic concoction,

She thought about it

More and more,

She considered it

Lying awake, far into

The dark, dismal night,

The girl imagined a different life,

An escape from all this pain

Some nights, she still ponders,

Wondering when

It will finally end,

For even now,

Not a single thing

Has changed

A handful of improvements for your writing pleasure.

Improvement: Center Alignment

The center alignment icon in the writing editor toolbar now works as intended. You can center paragraphs as you see fit.

Improvement: Tabs

Tabs will now insert four spaces when used while using the writing editor, rather than unfocusing the editing area.

Improvement: Formatting

The formatting icons on the formatting toolbar in the writing editor now highlight to indicate current bold, italic, underline, and centering status. Also, clicking the buttons will no longer deselect your selected text.

Bug Fix: Letter Spacing

Some of you pointed out that multiple consecutive spaces would not properly display after publishing. That’s been fixed. If you don’t believe me here’s proof.

Bug Fix: Editing

Fixed a bug preventing users from saving edits on some posts.

Bug Fix: Account Settings

Fixed a bug that prevented users from updating their profile images, usernames, etc.