My writing style looks incredibly disjointed but I promise there's a pattern. Art was done by me.



When you're born
it's less like being pushed into existence
and more like you fell awake.

And when you find yourself aware enough
to be able to recognize the danger of this world
like predators
you rip yourself apart to keep them away.

It wasn't like you held any allegiance,
no loyalties to any creators,
You just knew you enjoyed it when it snowed
(It helped you rebuild yourself.)

You never imagined there were places where you couldn't go.
And you could always see where you came from.
A little piece of you would be left behind.
A reminder of your journey.

But, like you, the world had no promises
and it would not always keep you safe
You'd seen it before, watching your flesh disappear.
But now it fulled expanses beyond your sight
you wondered how much of you it held.
It was like the sky fell.

You were quite conscious of your surroundings
you prided yourself on being acutely cognizant
You'd dropped yourself from such heights before.
This should be no different.

In hindsight, always 20/20,
the idea that this space was made up of what
happened to scattered remnants of you
torn off in your haste to be safe
should have told you something else.
But you'd seen snow fall from the sky
and you wanted so desperately to see where relief came from.
and to stay there.

You'd ripped yourself apart plenty of times.
You had found almost a glee in it
but this was something else
it wasn't the mortification of steeping in
what you only knew to be decay
that caused you to panic
it was that no matter how vehemently you
tore yourself apart to save yourself
you knew this was the only ending you would be afforded
and that hurt more than anything you had ever done.

Briefly, as pieces of fluffy white broke away from you
and sank into the mass of decomposition
a veritable void of extinction
you wondered if, even if you had
left a trail to follow you
would anyone be keen to follow it?
And if they did
were they going to die like you?
There was no comfort in this thought
and as your end grew closer and closer to your face
and you hoped that
maybe
they wouldn't.