This trembling grief is for a long lost soul, a young, guileless child I once knew as me. I truly believed

Look out there, see them, boy ? They want yer juice. They’re dry, them circlin’ desert… All they want's yer juice, boy.

I stole myself away from thee and me, for love of sweet Mary Jane.

I see no reason now to disguise this naked heart and soul of mine. You can hide there

I am seven years old. My brother is ten. The beating was brutal. My brother is recovering conscious… I believed he was dead.

I met a man who told me that he’s looking for the way he might become more free, less encumbered in his life. Poor me, poor me, poor me;

I was addressed today in the secret silent language that everyone knows; except for me. It was assumed I’d know exactly

The storm is brewing. I smell it in the air. I am panicking. I fear this tempest might cost my life.

“Don’t say anything!” spoke the shadow in the doorway. I was seven years of age. I lay limp upon the couch, still recovering from

Something whispers, certainly not nothing. A subtle impetus to choose to stir and rise

Everything he has ever been taught alerts him to avert that dancing f… What is it then that demands he mu… proceed towards his certain fiery… Some deep and ancient voice within

What you seek with such fervent zeal, as you scour those sacred texts and scriptures, is far greater than