Amor Fati, Sunday Target Practice Staring at the spiral staircase, at the top a broken statue of venus worships and devours her own blood. She's faceless. Bullets, knives, bombs, gas chambres stuck to her teeth. Electricity down. A flip-flop narcissistic battalion, shows no mercy, no compassion. The scales of justice are colorful white silver star-studded canyons covered in satanic graffiti aiming from her lifeless mouth. She lives again as a Lazarus.
Steve and the Beast Written by, Ph.D Rafael Monserrate . The following is a fictional story inspired by real events in collaboration with the poet, Sergio A. Ortiz Rivera. _________________________________ The first time Steve saw the beast he was 4.5 years old. He had a dream where a roaring beast approached him. He woke up crying, scared. His parents punished him “unnecessarily” for waking them and his baby brother up. Steve was of small build, 1.09 meters tall, slim, light brown skin. Fear and anger are still part of his life. His body shook whenever he tried to get comfortable on the floor of the closet where his mother locked and tied him, body and hands, ordered by Erin, his stepfather. Fear and uncertainty slept and woke up in Steve's bed. At his young age he knew that he was in danger. Anything could happen, like getting killed, if his stepfather got really upset. He'd be blamed and locked in the closet again, a representation of loneliness and is
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