Flowing Ink

United States

enjoy my ever-changing existence through this wondrous world of words
wtw's resident quiet kid in the back

Message to Readers

I can't decide if looking for everything's beauty is a form of lying to myself; if it so, that is incredibly sad that I must omit or lie about my reality to make it bearable. I am unsure what is real and how the way I feel influences the world I live. I'm confused. Feedback is welcome.


March 29, 2021


I am tired of being dark.
Why can't that blood just be lovely scarlet paint?
The sun warm instead of blinding,
The cold playful instead of numbing,
The flowers beautiful instead of garish?

I have decided for myself.
That little piece of egshell in the eggs is beautiful
Since white looks so lovely against yellow.
That little fly's eyes aren't creepy, no, 
They reflect hundreds of colors when caught in the light.

Life is beautiful because I decide it so.
Perhaps that is arbitrary on a deeper level, and maybe a little sad
That I must remain at surface length to see wonder
But I suppose that is what existing means,
Since it's so remarkably easy to paint everything ugly.


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  • March 29, 2021 - 12:52am (Now Viewing)

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1 Comment
  • Ava Marie

    I love this so much!

    about 1 month ago