weather

There is comfort in thunder

Security in clouds

Forgiveness in rain

pierced

I still have bruises on my body

where your nails pierced my skin

your fingers dug like claws

found my heart and squeezed

this place

I remember when this web was real,

before it became a popularity contest

fueled by faded pictures of faux lifestyles.

A collection of dark comforting corners

is now one giant spotlight.

Between video games and fiction,

we shared stories of love and loss with

our closest unknowns,

making real connections with the pixels

of avatars we’d never meet.

That was when image meant nothing,

when ideas reigned.

The recluses and artists who built this place

have lost it.

Perhaps we are not unwelcome,

but we don’t want to be here anymore.