‘Is conscience a quantum field? Is the essence of those who have passed preserved? Are they truly gone? The present fading and finally disappearing into an infinite past as the arrow of time moves forward?’ I recall my quantum physics classes and ‘The Conservation of Information,’ and ponder the questions as I struggle with the loss I’m experiencing. ‘Do animals even have a conscience? Are they self-aware?’ For fourteen y...

I hope God isn't jealous. I look for you in everything I do. I see you in sunsets, Birds flying, Ducks, Arcade games, Tired faces. I hear you. In Eminem songs, In every middle finger, In Victoria's Secret, In Yankee Doodle parodies. Your laugh is a constant echo. I hope God isn't jealous. I talk to you more than I talk to Him. And when I do talk to Him It's either a spewing ball of rage, Cursing and blaming Your Name. Or...

Tomorrow is the day I see you. 370 days since the last time I saw your smile, Heard your laugh, Looked into your blue eyes. Only tomorrow will be so very different. Your eyes will be closed. A smile will no longer fall on your face. And your laugh Along with you, Will be gone. The shell of your body is what I get to say goodbye to. How do I face you? How do I look at a body that is so very clearly the one of my brother An...

An iron fist grips my chest I release an anguished cry And terror engulfs my core. Broken, I gasp my final breath The shackles fall away And darkness embraces me. Adrift in the eternal abyss I am lost between shadow and flame Until I see a shimmer A shimmer in the void Translucent, radiant, the Veil opens Enticing me with iridescent fingers I am struck by wonder Wonder in my being As I see you, my love Waiting on the othe...

Jensen Apart from waking up with a splitting headache, Ash’s crying woke me up. Even though I didn’t remember why I woke up in a sleeping bag on the floor of a church, I rushed over to my crying brother. “What’s the matter, buddy?” Ash sniffled and wiped his eyes with the back of his hands. “I just miss Mom and Dad.” I hugged and stroked his back. “Don’t worry, I miss them, too.” I rubbed my now itchy and dry eyes which w...

Oh, Mother of Sorrows, lamenting Mother blest! Laden with grief, You clutched Your beloved Son to Your chest. A sword pierced Your heart as You held Your lifeless Son. A moan poured forth from Your grieving soul, inconsolable as You were. Oh, Sorrowful Mother, how somber were the tears Your soul wept. Eyes heavy with sadness, cast downward to behold Your only begotten One. Oh, Mother of Sorrows, Your hands covered with th...

Heaven repents from the cell I put you in My beautiful soul Does it hurt to trust me again? Is that why you keep me so afraid to begin…. …anything? Heaven Repents from the cell I put you in And Hell mourns the loss of your company The comforting swagger of your apathy Can you hear the horsemen pleading for your return? Heaven repents and Hell mourns But Earth? Earth hardly notices your return. What is a body but another c...

“Eddie’s dead,” said the female voice on the other end of the line. My caller did not identify herself, but I recognized Emma Lawrence’s voice. She was engaged to my old friend Eddie Blake. “What happened, Emma?” I asked, dreading the answer. “He went paddling on the lake, Alan,” she said quietly. That alone was enough to make my face turn pale, but I let Emma go on. “I told him not to. I refused to go myself. But he stil...

Gardens are generally understood to be neutral ground. For all. Mortals. Immortals. Mankind and Monsters. Why else would so many myths feature them? Cannot get any more neutral than Nature. But what makes one a monster or a man? Why is mortality a thing at all? Why aren’t we all immortal? It seems unfair, doesn’t it? Well, it's designed to. And before you judge the poor mortal woman of Abrahamic legend. It wasn’t her faul...

I The dim of dawn brightens to a resplendent sunrise. Church bells ring, announcing the Angelus. I rise and kneel at the side of my bed with a bowed head, Listening to songbirds as I pray to Mother Mary. II Sunrise gives way to daylight. I finish praying for the morning and rise my head to Gaze out the windows at God’s beautiful creation. I offer my thanksgiving and love to Him. III The rays of daylight brightly shine acr...

I’ve walked in darkness my whole life. Each day I wake up and wonder if today is the day I will slip away into the darkness – then resolve, like an alcoholic, that I will hold out for just one more day. Death is my addiction, and I work to hold it off every day. People talk casually about being depressed. Therapists correct that and say rather that it is living with depression. Churchill, who struggled with depression mos...

“I’m sorry, I wish I had better news.” The doctor wears the face all doctors wear when delivering news no patient ever wanted to hear. “Do you have any questions?” I nod, then smile politely, unable to find the right words. How am I supposed to react? What is the proper etiquette after being handed down this sentence? Thank you? Questions? I have to have questions, right? But all the questions I should have at this moment...

no one thinks of solitude as violent but I feel like sometimes it wants to be doesn't silence ever get tired of being peaceful from witnessing so much? does it ever crave the violence of a scream like a lover's kiss? Lonely Alone Solitude is always equated with peace But So is death

“He will see you now,” the creature growled pointing towards an old oak door. I got up from my seat and made my way in front of it. This was it. It was finally time to make my case. I briefly ran through all my arguments in my mind. I knew I only had one shot at this. I took a deep breath and pushed open the door. The loud creaking from the wood rattled my nervous bones. The walls were lined with skulls, one on top of ano...

Turning the key in the garage door, there was a satisfying click as it locked. His left hand held a claw hammer which was swung at it. It took three swipes to break the key. He nodded in satisfaction. “There, now we’re locked in,” he said, dropping the tool, then turning and walking across to a full-length Hanoi mirror, leaning against a drawer chest. In its reflection he could see the object of his disgust, Kenneth May,...