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Bump On The Wrist

The endurance of purpose can bleed through blurry lines. For there was once a man who did things with the illusion of honor, now could be fighting with pain. Is there a hero or just a shadow of someone to hide behind?  These thoughts ran through Andrew's head as he witnessed his wrist bleed down the drain.  What is a representation of life? In the end, just being energy wasted by this earth. Someone with purpose doesn't live with the world's sadness deep in their heart or mind. Trying to connect with others, becoming a companion, or even a familiar person. Andrew, looking at himself through the mirror, notices the pain he is in. Could see his eyes race at the speed of his mind. "Ground yourself, Andrew!" That is all he can scream in his head.  It is easy to think in pain and not recognize the physical decay that comes from it. Making mistakes with tricky words is easy, and others can take you at face value. How can anyone understand the crying man inside?  Andrew ...
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Withering Door

C an there be any better welcome than the one from Elm's Manor. Where the sun goes to wither away. The only light that shines here is the one from the moon, and even that is covered by the great pain that clouds the sky. Souring blood and whimpering tears are the flavors of the feast that whores itself on this real estate. Give no concern about how you wish to feel, the only way to survive is to devour the suicide state of mind and be one, as a gothic deity of your realm. Such a poor soul, this is only the beginning of a fun adventure.  I'll like to say welcome to Elm's Manor, but you haven't even stepped away from the street, passed through the gates of eyes. Look, they are sharing the same expressions as you are, fear. I'll provide comfort to bring in some confidence, you won't die in this adventure by my own hand, that isn't your fate. Please don't be too surprised, your life's value is as equal as the dirt, and your soul is already committed to e...
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