He could have taken her to the Grande Palace Resort, but chose a seedy hotel on the waterfront, within walking distance of the Pier; for it lent an air of noir to the affair, that mixed well with her fatalistic attitude of their coupling. Though he hated when she spoke in “after the fact” tense, it was one of her curious traits that he found most fascinating; her ability to see the world in ways and realms that most could not; including her knowing how they would end, before they even began.

He was a superficial praise whore to be sure, putting himself at the center of attention if he didn’t happened to automatically fall there; and while those around him found him an overbearing, egocentric ass, she sensed his insecurity and saw something deeper that others did not, and that’s the part she wanted to touch. But their chemistry and attraction was unparalleled and irresistible; taking them straight to that line they should never have crossed; the means to their inevitable demise.

The path by which she led him was laden with mystery and truth; the things they did in room 231 was nothing short of debauched wickedness. Touching on every human compulsion and desire; connected by kismet, each movement determined. She coaxed him deeper than he’d ever gone, then feasted on his philosophy, all the while stroking his ego and soothing his soul.

The scars she was left with are worn as badges of valor, for the end was truly a vicious battle; and while she believed that he’d grown from their time and experience, in the end he retreated right back to that haven of superficiality, convenience and comfort; the one that stifled, restricted and smothered. The one he thanked her, on countless occasions, for releasing him from.

What she hadn’t foreseen was the coward he’d become when the black cloud moved in and ultimatums rained down; choosing to cling to collected possessions that held no meaning, but symbolized his monetary value and social standing; rather than harnessing his soul that had only just begun to soar, and riding the current of freedom wherever it happened to take him.

She understood the cruelty he showered upon her, in the form of his words immediately thereafter; actions displaying the stand he was taking, to appease the one he’d forsaken; malicious words intended to wound; of regrettable mistakes and meaningless missteps, that he would spend the rest of his life repenting. But the blatant disrespect he hurled in her direction, when their paths crossed and they landed face-to-face, was more than she could suffer.

She knew their truth, yet he chose to live his own lie; and she’d walked away peacefully with no looking back. The justification for his hatred was pure ego-driven; reminding and rubbing her nose in the fact, that he stood far above on the ladder of success and achievement, whose rungs she refused to climb; when he knew deep inside that his position and wealth had never meant anything or impressed her in the least. She was the only true spirit he’d ever known; her freedom the very thing he longed for – the one thing he was afraid to embrace.

The depth of his shallowness was revealed to the world, on that cold, rainy November night. The camera crew zoomed in on the crime scene; police tape blocking off the street, a shiny, silver Maserati parked in the alley alongside the Hotel Palamar. Two victims found in the car, both having died from multiple gunshot wounds. President and CEO of prominent architectural firm and an unidentified prostitute, both having met their untimely demise during an apparent act of unfinished fellatio.

She gazed at the image on the television screen, as the camera panned out and revealed the full scene, her eyes were immediately drawn to the window on the second floor; a window she knew too well – the window to room 231, where they’d carried out their affair.

They say some men you just can’t reach, and while she didn’t doubt that for a moment, she also believed that upon reaching that place at the core of one’s soul and touching upon the truth that dwells there, some simply aren’t courageous enough to reach out and embrace it; choosing instead to succumb to their fear and fade into the illusion.

Rain falls softly
Outside my window
Living feels so easy

Close my eyes
Spread my wings
Reach for the sky
Aloft in flight

Darkness pales
In the shadow
Of this light

Where broke
Is no longer
The shape of
My heart

This disregard
For human life
Is nothing new
To our species

It overwhelms
As it shadows
Our light
In media’s
Many
Forms

Everywhere
We turn

Daily news
So bad
Good news
So seldom heard

This human
Condition
The darkened
Soul

Can dampen
The brightest
Of spirits

But only
If we
Allow it

She reached with trembling hands
In the one direction
She knew she shouldn’t

Precariously she traveled
To the edge of deaths ledge
Desperate to feel anything
Craving his rejection

She raised her arms
As if to take flight
The ground shook violently
Breaking night’s silence

She heard the hoof beats
Coming hard and fast
Over her shoulder
Half beast
Half man

He snatched her away
From deceptions cruel embrace
With the key in possession
He spirited her away

To gaze no longer
Into the blackened abyss
Reliving past mistakes
Suffering fools pain

They don’t all float down here, as his mantra would have you believe. Some wrap themselves intentionally, in the dispirited darkness; fighting natures buoyancy that would raise them toward the light. He thrived on being the outcast, for he knew not how to fit; emitted false illusion, so as to sway opinion and perceptions. But had he ever met the Sage, in the abyss which I have faced, he would have fallen to his knees and in prayer he would have begged.

You know you’ve reached the threshold, when you start thinking about your “things” and imagining what will become of them after you’re gone. All your personal little mementos that you’ve collected over the course of your life; meaning absolutely nothing to anyone who happens across them, but holds significance to you; even if that significance is nothing more than a shred of memory; carefully placed in a sacred place, bearing witness to a time, a place, a person, who was once part of you world; a faint buzz of energy and emotion lingering, from the time when you placed it there.

You picture in your mind, people sifting through journals and old writings; trying to read between your lines, believing they’ve found all the pieces and finally figured out who you really were and what made you tick; why you were the way you were, and chose the path you walked to the end.

When all that comes to mind and you realize you really don’t give a shit…that’s when you know you’ve reached the threshold. That’s when you have but two choices.

You can roll over and close your eyes, languidly disappearing into the unknown abyss, or you can find that inner light, gather your will and strength and fight against the enviable that each of us must one day face. Realizing that you’re just not quite through and you’ve still too much living to do.

Thank you, Joney, for realing against the abyss.

She doesn’t seek his memory, it just comes creeping; and when it does, that’s all there is.

Its nothing to do with fear or inspiration; building a fan base that was there long before he was; or anything at all for matter of fact. For who would dream of seeking such hurt.

Its simply a means of soul survival; an attempt to heal, her wounds on her own. Purging her being in the form of words; bloodletting her system of his poison, his disease. Being caught in the death trap, he sets and springs.

His desperation for reprieve, amounting to nothing; empty words of apology and pleas of forgiveness. He gobbles her words and his ego grows, waiting for Twitter to tell him there’s more.

There comes a certain “feel,” no matter where you happen to be, whenever his thoughts turn in your direction.

It starts at the basic level of the flesh; like the cool breeze on a crisp autumn night; tantalizing and chilling all at once.

Your blood pressure rises, heart rate increases, as he sends invisible waves of desire, cascading in your direction.

At the sound of his voice, a chemical reaction triggers, and suddenly you are seized; with a mix of exhilaration and excitement like none other you have ever known.

A connection is what he seeks; the ability to reach out and snatch you from reality; pulling you into his realm of illusion; with nothing more than his thoughts and voice.

Once he connects, the feeding begins; everything you want to hear, anyone you want him to be; larger than life, too good to be true; having searched for eternity and now loving only you.

Before you can blink, you are on a downward spiral; surrendered completely while careening out of control.

He drains you empty, while filling you up; taking every scrap offered, pillaging the rest while you dream.

Making his exit as quickly as he comes; a puddle of nothing, you remain on the floor. Left alone, to sift through the pain; cloaked in his filthy blanket of noir.

An advertisement for acclaimed feature films that grabbed my attention. And so I began to browse the images of the available DVD’s. It was a strange, almost eerie image that I was drawn to; the silhouette of a horse with its head in a downward position and something unidentifiable in the one visible eye; the word ZOO typed beside it.

I went online and did a search for the movie trailer. Upon closer examination of the movie poster, it appeared to be the bust of a naked man reflected in the horses eye, but I couldn’t make it out for certain. Then I began to read the blurb and immediately wished that I had never received the catalog, as I read about the feature length documentary that focuses on a man who died and his group of friends in Washington State who call themselves the Zoo; partaking and video taping their acts of zoophilia with the stallions; having chosen this particular farm, due to the fact that there are no state laws against having sex with animals.

“JESUS CHRIST,” I heard my self say aloud, just as the darkness came crashing down.

I know you feel the weight of my heavy, saddened heart, laden with complete and utter disgust.; but do you hear the sound, of my wounded soul weeping; for my self and all of mankind?

What comfort can you offer, in light of such abomination; vile, shameful, detestable acts; exploited documentary style, romanticized by critics, that I have unwillingly become privy to this night?

There are moments we live that stay with us forever; traces we’ll carry into the ether. There are sights and sounds and things we witness, that leave such an impression, we are changed forever.

I fear the mark made on my psyche and soul, will remain a permanent stain that will never fade away. And there is no understanding, no wanting of reason; just pure abhorrent evil, the only conclusion, to why man could do such things.

And I wonder why, such pathetic beings, are given life in the first place. Allowed to breath and breed right along side us.

My instinct is to hide. To take my child and run as far from mankind as we can possibly get. But I no longer believe there is a safe place, for we are surrounded at all times, each and every day of our lives.

Yesterday the headlines. Today this. I cannot help but wonder, what message the universe is trying to send me, by blinding me with this darkness.

DEAR GOD…won’t you please deliver us from this evil?

An advertisement for acclaimed feature films that grabbed my attention. And so I began to browse the images of the available DVD’s. It was a strange, almost eerie image that I was drawn to; the silhouette of a horse with its head in a downward position and something unidentifiable in the one visible eye; the word ZOO typed beside it.

I went online and did a search for the movie trailer. Upon closer examination of the movie poster, it appeared to be the bust of a naked man reflected in the horses eye, but I couldn’t make it out for certain. Then I began to read the blurb and immediately wished that I had never received the catalog, as I read about the feature length documentary that focuses on a man who died and his group of friends in Washington State who call themselves the Zoo; partaking and video taping their acts of zoophilia with the stallions; having chosen this particular farm, due to the fact that there are no state laws against having sex with animals.

“JESUS CHRIST,” I heard my self say aloud, just as the darkness came crashing down.

I know you feel the weight of my heavy, saddened heart, laden with complete and utter disgust.; but do you hear the sound, of my wounded soul weeping; for my self and all of mankind?

What comfort can you offer, in light of such abomination; vile, shameful, detestable acts; exploited documentary style, romanticized by critics, that I have unwillingly become privy to this night?

There are moments we live that stay with us forever; traces we’ll carry into the ether. There are sights and sounds and things we witness, that leave such an impression, we are changed forever.

I fear the mark made on my psyche and soul, will remain a permanent stain that will never fade away. And there is no understanding, no wanting of reason; just pure abhorrent evil, the only conclusion, to why man could do such things.

And I wonder why, such pathetic beings, are given life in the first place. Allowed to breath and breed right along side us.

My instinct is to hide. To take my child and run as far from mankind as we can possibly get. But I no longer believe there is a safe place, for we are surrounded at all times, each and every day of our lives.

Yesterday the headlines. Today this. I cannot help but wonder, what message the universe is trying to send me, by blinding me with this darkness.

DEAR GOD…won’t you please deliver us from this evil?