shattered
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There are pieces that I have written that seem to write themselves. There are pieces that even several years later, I remember where I was and how I felt when I wrote them. There are pieces that the narration and music for the audio recording hit the emotional mark of the piece perfectly. Endlessness is
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Hushing the voices, a dark quill shattered. When I listed my books from last to first and realized their titles formed a complete sentence, I was stunned. It was not something I consciously planned, and yet there it was: a cathartic trio of books wrapped up in a sentence. It seemed more like a message
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I write from my experience and understanding, offering my perspective, as we all have a unique way of seeing things. I encourage the reader to question, seek, and research. You may see things differently. The truth is cloaked in a web of deceit in which those who seek it are often caught. It can send
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There are those of us, touched with fire; a fire that rageswithin, threatening to destroy the very mind in which itresides. It leaves behind a chaotic state of a whirling madnesswhich I have become the master of manipulating. There are scars that will never fade, and memories thatwill never free me. Then there is me,
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I heard what sounded like screaming early in the morning, not long after dawn. It sounded as if something was dying, slowly, painfully. It screeched out one last cry before silence fell. Death echoed in that silence. I looked out the window. I’m not sure what I expected to see. There was a gray hue to the
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The smell of death l lingered like a salesman that wouldn’t take no for an answer. The is something about the rotting of flesh that reminds on how mortal a being with a heartbeat is. The rain poured off and on between bursts of sunlight. It was late afternoon, but I was still in my
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Perceptions often distorted, Things not always as they seem; Reality is often illusion,That which is but a dream. What appears to be happiness,Is merely a cheerful mask;Nothing but a pleasant fiction,A daily perfected task. Can love break all barriers?Can it save an aching soul?Can it redeem a self-betrayal?Can it make an empty heart whole? A lifetime of
SB LACROIX 