And you started this life with so much time

your beginning so bright...filled with glee.

humility struggled to soften the chimes

of a young heart running free.

And you started this life with so much time

in a hurry to experience the fun

chasing the blues with tasty red wine

then contemplate buying a gun.

And you started this life with so much time

now you’ve chosen to betray your soul

filling your days with emptiness and crime

no matter how deadly the toll.

And you started this life with so much time

now you’re just another man on the run

abuse and decay have slaughtered your mind

when sun sets….your day is done.

You,

The Man of Men,

Who taught men of man

Before they were aware of it.

Your study is an art,

And your art is your study.

People praise you for reasons they do not even know,

And you provoke a sincere melancholy that changes the heart.

We laugh and cry and love and hate,

As you do.

You,

Who has written for the ages,

And lives through them.

Being away from so many people

and being isolated,

lost

lonely

cold

afraid.

Sometimes when you cry for help

no one listens until it's too late

cry means nothing but attention

they don't know the broken pieces.

Not knowing where to go or who to look for

and being drowned by self hate

lost in the void of anger and pity

no one listens or helps

Broken because of yourself

throwing yourself away

No longer caring about mental health

the darkness consumes the vulnerable.

The sun comes to run out the shades of black

the way shadows take the fate of man's path

for nothing is new under the sun

what is won

already has been won

but till the day comes

we all still striving to live by the sun

which comes and goes

rises and falls

like the good and bad times

we can't mistake as times we suffer

when envy or resentment

separates us from our lovers and brothers

we wonder is we are enough

searching for a love in the places

which speak and tug at our hearts

how can it be

that we fill ourselves with misdeeds

given by darkness lost to hearts no longer whole

swallow our souls so hollow

we depart a piece of ourselves

place it out of reach

so we don't see the beasts

the demons, the ugly things

breeding this person to give up on themselves

to not find meaning to overcome his demons

to overcome the hurt, the curse

the oppressed dressed in depression

fails to lend a fortunate lesson

to thyself or the many struggling

to understand what it means to count your blessings

without a clue of our own worth or life's calling

it's all falling to be a known disaster destructing

any or all it goes after

for love is built only to be fit for the kingdom of heaven

each step you take takes you deeper

in a web of fears who won't let you win

all you lost repeats to a theme seems to

be the one who steers, to places where no one knew you were even here

all the will never be the same

all that hope to grow to know

no longer holds on, so far away so gone

it's only the test of your faith that determines

all of who you are

are only your own thoughts

played to play a part of all you thought you knew of

you don't and won't

truly know who you are until you

love all or any

rebuild off of something completely opposite of what you were

I've called many to walk the paths to their temptations

gave them all to corruptive imaginations thoughts in the dark

their human nature they impart

replaying parts of nightmares

till the day they redeem themselves

to rise from a hell they al failed to tell themselves

to fully know me

you have to know and face all you made for dinner

on your plate see what your cooking take a look

and know you can't eat it on your own

show to much, but indeed will be shown more

if you trust there is a reason why you're alive to uphold

all your dying and living for

Mirrors of shadows lurking

distracted since I'm spracked

continue running

down these windy halls

daily attacked in attempts to stand tall

explain to all my inner awakening

as I'm questioning polarities

As it seems too much to bear

each one strengthens & conquered weakness

unless one believes; the one by one each side

of it feeds us, plants seeds to lead us

which dying need drives us near

afraid to steer

We push the pedal to the floor

to self-destruct-to avoid safely landing

into heaven's gate

we no long ago know

once soared before the split

which rippled open

from the fall of grace

placed in an embryo

2 parts of me were created

& took part individually

to grow into something

only God knows

Tonight I want to drink until my pen is wet.

Until the moments unfurl...float away into the mist of ink and fire.

Tonight I drink to remember and forget.

Tonight I drink to new loves and old flames.

Torn out clippings from newspapers long since yellowed and crushed.

Tonight I drink to the roads that rise up to meet us.

The thirst on a summer's day in a pasture twenty years back

To the white fences. To the field hands.

To the bitches in my past.

To cool autumn days and mint julips on the porch.

Tonight I drink to wet my pen

To pay tribute to those that inspire

Encourage and to those who dismantle a soul with a smile and a

Bless your heart.

Tonight I drink for you

walk with me

quit wandering, baby.

take my hand 

that rush is but

gentle blood . 

bathes balmy 

paired chambers 

filling and 

emptying

red contract to live

our hands are both

warm now

a touch familiar 

to nerves so 

flesh is continuous

skin silently tingles

below the surface

blood etching

marks for a

necromancer 

entwined fingers

make lovers

lock-on

destination

digitally entered 

The leaves drifted softly down from the maple above me. I was watching them, so I almost walked right into her.  She had her coat drawn tightly around her, and a red scarf wrapped around her dark hair.  Her features were so familiar, I stopped walking and nearly dropped my purse on the ground.  They were familiar because I saw them as I brushed my teeth every morning.  I combed tangles out of hair like that, and rubbed moisturizer into those features every night before bed.  She shouldn't be standing there.  She should be behind the glass in my mirror.

Her face, like mine I'm sure, was drawn with bafflement.  She stopped.  We stood before one another, stock still. . . 

A sudden gust of icy wind blasted between us, catching our clothes, and blowing hair across our eyes.  In the same movement, we both swept our hair out of our faces, holding it back so we could see.

"Who are you?" We asked in unison.  I sighed, and she shook her head, in a familiar gesture from my youth.

"Where do you come from, then?" She continued softly, as the wind died down to a stillness almost unnatural.  I continued to gawk, I'm ashamed to say, but then managed to walk with her over to a park bench.  I sat down--before I fell down.

"I have an apartment near the river on Main Street."  I wasn't sure how to answer that question.  

"Is it Apartment 2D?"  Her face had gone white.

I could feel my jaw dropping.  "Uh. . ."

"It is, isn't it?"

I was glad I was sitting down.

"Well, It's a good thing Mom outfitted me. . ."I began.

"With two beds for the apartment. . ."  she finished.

I called my boss, blaming stomach flu for my absence.  Not because I wanted to get to know her. . . me. . . whatever. But we had lots of things to figure out.  She left a message on her boss's voicemail explaining her absence with a bout of the stomach flu. We went back to the apartment. (Difficult to decide whose it was, under the circumstances.  We owned identical things.)

Luckily, we had different jobs.  I had the accounting job my parents had insisted would be a good way to make a living.  She was a graphic artist.  She had pursued our passion.  So, our work lives shouldn't collide.

But where had she come from?  Clearly we had not been sharing the apartment.  Clearly our parents had not raised twin girls.  We were both called Rachel Karen Blanchard.  Born the same year, to the same parents, in the same location.  All of our memories matched up until high school.  They diverged when she plucked up the courage to ask out her/my crush, Johnny Stevenson, and he had accepted.  That's when we pulled out the photo albums.

Dear Nora,

Since the day you were taken away I've been working to bring you back. I told you I'd freeze hell for you and I'd be damned if that wasn't what I came to do. Just remember no matter what the others say I only did those things for you. I needed money to fund my research for my breakthrough, no one cared that I needed to save you. I prayed for forgiveness of every cold corpse I left. Every theft was a closer step to feeling your warming heart. I loved you Nora and nothing has changed. Engulfed in rage I used frost to douce the flame. You're engrained into my soul if you die my fate will be the same. It's hard not to melt beneath the rain. Our town is now under a tyrant's reign. If he stands in our way again he will feel our pain. I miss our house being filled with the sound of your singing. Now my lair is filled with the sound of silence, from these so called acts of violence, but my passion runs deeper than the top layer. The mirror shows the hallow of my life. The shallow of my shadows masked by the bravado of the caped crusader. If you wake to see this letter know it my work was not in vain. But it also means the public did not care about my mission. If I'm caught the judge will through the book at me, he's already made his decision.

With all the love in the world, Victor

The happiest home can become the most hollow of holes. No trust, no hugs, or kisses, and no kind words. A home that was once lighted and packed full of delicious smells. The echos of laughter were obliterated by shouts, screams, and cries…cries for the death of a loved one.

My little sister is dead. She was murdered in our house. I don'tʼknow how or when. But I remember when I found her. She just laid there. Her broken form at the bottom of the stairs. I stood there staring at her frozen body.

“Get up." She didn'tʼmove, her eyes staring up at me unblinking.

"Get up!" I fell to my knees and gathered her in my arms. Shaking her, I repeated my plea countless times. My vision blurred and spots began to appear sporadically on a dark blue blouse. She always made sure to dress to impress.

It was an accident—it had to be. We all love each other. I mean, we were a family. How could one kill someone they love? I loved my baby sister. I lifted my gaze towards the family game room.

Mom and Pop moved restlessly. Their mouths clamped shut on their grim faces.

Or was that guilt? Which one of them did it? It couldn'tʼhave been me. I had heard her call out to me right before that loud final crack. Help! Bubba! I didn'tʼget to her in time—I was all the way upstairs.

My voice burst through the room, "Why aren'tʼyou calling an ambulance!?" My parents turned to me their grimness disappearing and becoming more sad. They were sad? "Can'tʼyou see she'sʼhurt."

My mother broke into sobs and my father pushed her into a spare chair. He turned back to me and made his way over.

"We're trying to protect you. It was an accident, right?" His hand enveloped my shoulder. "You'll be okay, son. You can plead insanity.” He took a deep breath as his brows furrowed and he blinked away oncoming tears.