She absently plays with the stitches across her lips. Her eyes have more sky than sky. Laughter like wind chimes she holds out her hands to collect the rain hides all her light where nobody is allowed and I’ve walked past her a million times a million times.
I don’t know where the light is anymore in all of this running around. Grace has left me and I’m still young bent from callous, careless hands left a beaten graffitied trashcan turned over and motionless at the mouth of an alley. There is always a child screaming into my ear from somewhere deep inside. […]
My love of words is large and mean and my heart -it’s just a junkyard dog that growls at nothing and gnaws at old bones until they’re dust. I have become so much better since I’ve obtained a strong handle on the absurdity of myself but still there’s nothing easier than picking up a bottle […]
Old habits hang like nooses brushing against my throat against my thoughts tightening across everything that I’ve become. I’m sorry that we fight like this but fighting is what everything has taught me to do. Sometimes I want to break down like an old car because of everything that has built up but Father would […]
I have a new horror novel out now on Amazon that delves into my musings on perception, dreams and the spirit world—and just in time for the holidays! You should definitely check it out! http://www.amazon.ca/Dweller-Hernan-Monzon-ebook/dp/B00OVKYPWY/ref=sr_1_6?ie=UTF8&qid=1414252310&sr=8-6&keywords=the+dweller
There was this girl at school Quiet Melody was her name. She used to hide in her hair. Long and black it was like a raven’s back and she used it as a curtain so that nobody could see her. When people addressed her Melody would wave sheepishly distantly as though from another planet and […]
Just out of reach -a balloon. The one I thought would lift me up.
The only thing harder than thinking that I could ever be anything to anyone is trying to explain that to anybody.
You flabby lion. You meandering drunk. You self-medicating self-pitying self-destructing squandered soul. Look at you! Pathetic. Let ourselves go, have we? I’ve seen livelier sides of meat in the lineup at the Sunday soup kitchen in hostels in men’s shelters and retirement homes. Don’t tell me that you’ve given up already because you look like […]