Daily Death Journal

Surrounded by Roses Walking the path to Fantasy, Where the roses intoxicate my body, With odors that sway to the heart, Rocking it to sleep so it can’t worry any longer, And it stays continuous. Each one releasing its beauty to blindness, Showing us that our eyes tell the terror of the world, And that with a sense as beautiful as a rose, There must be some good, And maybe we just intoxicated our senses with the wrong fumes.

When Depression Tried to Take Away My Passion Beaten and rotted into the ground, Tracks of stomp kicked legs, Limbs tied. Couldn’t fight. Fire from drags in the mud, Fire from the flame for the spark that flew right over me— Then blown out. Left me fighting for its life everyday. Snap of a string of a wired web, One connection lost, And it becomes a loose thread. Passion of the life that’s worth having a eulogy, And then Chasing, Eternally.

Layers of pricks that pick the skin, Release tension with fluid, That drain out the sorrow, And fill it with dopamine.

After sharing my image of response to this artist, I felt he would make a great addition to the journal from his photographic content. I think he embodies the thematic approach that is asked for in the use of Death as a subject.

A recent incident occurred where we now question the actions of police as a hostage is caught in between the crossfire of a shootout. UPS MIAMI SCENE