writer-artist-thinker-reader

Dirty feet make a dirty soul wither.The oval shape of his headtwisted in the wind.The ways his eyes stare backlike a dead cat.There is emptiness in the skull.Two days previous her lips were pink,now they are turning yellow.Emptiness surrounds the house.The pain reliever wore off.One last time the ringing started.The light above got brighter.She heard
There was a revival of sorts. I was someone mixed up inside. I’m not sure exactly where I could’ve been, in the middle or near the edge. There was a change of heart in the city. I was glad to contribute to the future where I grew up. These generations would be taking care of
I’m recommending watching all the seasons because the whole series of The Handmaid’s Tale is great from start to finish regarding the acting, story lines, and cliffhangers from season to season. The whole reason I got Hulu was to watch this series and now I’m watching it again. Season six was last season and the
You were someone I enjoyed. I wanted to be a great part of your life.You taught me little.Today, I want to return the favor.You were a cruel joke.There were things to miss.I was stupid to trust you.Convinced myself you were good for me.I held on too long.My eyes boiled hot from your sting.You abandoned me
Here, I am waiting,watching and listening,thinking of past days,filled with present longing,hoping for future release.My heart is broken,not to the point of a wilting flower,but the leaves are brown,and the stem is turning black.I could be wrong about this,or of things in my past,maybe a part of me is gone,maybe I am whole but can’t
He travels toward me in the shape of a hurricane, ripping off my skin, breaking my bones, forcing me to stop the bleeding.His words move at a pace of a tornado,a straight path until it abruptly changes,approaching my weakness at a great speed.He sends a meteor close to where I stand,it knocks me off my
the number two cheesenot the big bananaand not the little banana eitherall this talkingwill pull closer to themand wanting valuable treasuresthis does not offer anythingto commit to a dancein a hidden networkfind anything of usefor the strangers begto slide down furthershame is uglyand increases with timein each hair growththe stunted not worth muchto walk alone
Their faces pressed against the glassThis is the precursor to deathI am not afraid of them waitingThe last minutes left of my lifeI almost hear my bones breaking downThere is strength in what remainsMost of my senses are goneThe only one left is sight and soundThe enemy left long agoI looked at the length of
My favorite color is red.Reminds me of blood.Not surprising, at all, coursing through my veins.Preventing me from dying.Forcing me to breathe again.A case for living and model of survival.

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