All an Acts

She worries about my ink and the extra bling in my ears, and nose, and navel, while fretting with the solitary Swarovski gems adorning her 00 gauge, stretched out earlobes. Arched, over-engineered brows punctuate her displeasure. She pooh-poohs my Black Dahlia lips, her blue morpho butterfly wing lids fluttering in fear. A tremulous rebuttal declaring… More All an Acts

This way up

You don’t have to worry. God and me, we’re okay. We talk almost every day. I call Him Big G, and He calls me little t. Most of the time we get along great, sometimes we don’t. He does stuff that really pisses me off, and I know that He’s none too happy with me on occasion.… More This way up


Standing naked before man, stripped of my uncertainty and fear, declaring openly my devotion to you, only then will I be a righteous believer – when my faith is more precious than my life. NaBloPoMo 8/30


His crime broke laws thousands of years old. Thrown into a cell of metal and stone, he was left to contemplate his sins. The only sounds, the wailing of his fellow prisoners and the soft tumble of prayers falling from his own lips. In other cells, other captives scratched marks on their walls with rusty,… More Martyr