life creates your fiction, fiction creates your life.
Different pieces of metal. Different designs. ••• A mosaic of memories one doesn’t exist without the other. ••• They are all a part of her. She is carrying a piece of you with her. •• Soldered to her heart. They’re tattooed in the veins. ____ A piece of jewelry? Eight.
Silence: The thoughts buried from last night’s dream, The uncertainty of, “Am I where I’m supposed to be?” The determination to catch up with time, The obsessive need to re-lock the door, The suffocating exhaustion of a déjà vu spinning wheel, The doubts you fight to negate, The racing heartbeat that won’t slow down, These... Continue Reading →
Her sigh gave him goosebumps. His touch gave her movement. They loved, giving passionately. Never noticing they were dancing. It didn’t matter the setting. One glance and they were tangled together, forming art.
I have many homes. Each one is beautiful in its unsteadiness, its story, its existence, the memories, its smell, the small, silent whispers the people, its shelter, the walls that saw it all, and most importantly, they are all mine. -- The girl who traveled through unfamiliar doors. Only to realize they all began with... Continue Reading →
Young their pinkies intertwined while sitting atop the monkey-bars. The heartbeat beneath his chest humming underneath a blanket in the back of his pick-up truck One went to college. The other stayed home, comfortable. Other people came and went; they both changed they both learned. A visit back home, a holiday parade, and a simple,... Continue Reading →
Is a woman sad because water drops fall from her eyes? Or is she deemed sad, because the make-up that hides who she is is smearing making the spectators question her truth, fascinated by her façade fading?
I've never loved somebody this much. My last and only. My cowboy
To write is to love Insanity is contagious Life is a damaged piece of art & I'm just trying to name it. Which personality colors the white screen today? What characters are me or me from a far off place? Always adopting a new name, a new face. Still coherent I hitch a ride on... Continue Reading →
Wind gusts blow asking for moments in my life moments I need to remember... Almost tenderly the wind leaves a soft kiss on my cheek as my hair flows over my face... I feel his finger tips though he's so far away. Whisper in my ear what I need to know. Not tomorrow, today. The... Continue Reading →
Clear realistic proportionate true transparent, You. A steamy mirror rests above the sink my warm finger streak across the warm steam. Patterned lines steam face steam. Brown eyes with smeared mascara watch me. Black rivers meticulous gaze, what is she thinking? Oh, how this face will change today.
the way our lives are reflected and seen
Break the silence. End the violence.
Don't be afraid, just turn the page.
Film, Music, and Television Critic
Life or Fiction? 