"So the pen is mightier? who'da'thunk'it."
He said to the bleeding man tied down
to a messed, stained, bed.

The bound man figured,
even though he just got
to an LA plagued
by criminals, killers, and copy-cats,
that he wasn't getting out of here whole,
finally.

Holding a pen knife,
red-faced and sweating,
was his captor.
It had been a struggle
to awake and realize
who stood before him:
Quill.

The exact killer he'd been looking for.
He had heard about him in the Halo Herald,
An LA pun, it's not very popular,
but he liked the funny section.

"Are you just going to stand there?"
The bound man says, eagerly,
"Hey bud, you're the hanged man,
I'll do the talking."

"It's about time!"

"huh?"

"I'd been waiting.
heard you'd be at that
open mic. Knew you liked
the mealy type."

"Shuddup or I'll write you off."

Quill runs his pen knife over the bound man's right cheek.

"Stings a little.
Usually, I start with a rufie
and emotional damage.
But it looks like you
want to cut to the chase.
I'm a man of a similar mind.
spirit.
problem."

"Nobody's like me dude."

The bound man locks eyes with Quill.

"What're your trophies? huh?
I read you like to drain your victims,
cook'em dry.
don't you use their blood and powdered remains as ink?
Short stories or something?"

"Oh, an avid reader?! it's your lucky day:
you get to be part of the collection!"

The lamp nearby tumbles
to the floor as Quill lunges,
ready to ****.

"Wait! Don't you want to know who I am!"

"Not really."

"I'm a ser-"
The sentence is finished by
nothing but the sound of blood
and air
gurgling
into places it was never meant to be
as Quill's blade passes through flesh.

"Pfft, what, you think you're special?"
Quill saunters over to the sink.
"I'd hate to waste ink.
but there'll be more.
there's always more.
isn't that right, Celine."
he says to no one
and stands there with a smirk
as if listening to her.

the clatter of machinery
invades my bedroom
as rotors defeat gravity
for as long as fuel allows
someone's on the run
headed for the woods
at the back of my house
why do they think the
darkness of trees and
undergrowth will hide
them from infrared's
all seeing eye, their
journey to freedom
is about to end dramatically
under spotlight
I've got to get up for work
in under four hours

Dear Elizabeth (Part III.)

I know he did you wrong all those years
As you shed over thirty million tears
All he did was wanting to ****
Taking  when and whatever he wanted for the chaotic thrill
His mind living in a fantasy violent filled dreamworld
Killing over thirty-eight plus girls
As he beguiled, with a stealthy smile
The jury should’ve decided to send him to exile

Hurting so many women, children and others on the head
With his velvet crowbar, when police were searching for a unknown man named ‘Ted’
The girls he hurt, never got a chance to be mothers
With Molly never wanting to leave your side
Your perpetual love for Ted had eventually died
Lying, constantly stealing and cheating you never once deserved that
Dealing with the perpetual negative crap

You were his Miss Americana
As he was your Heartbreak Prince
Theodore unknowingly beat and broke a lot of limbs
Right under your nose
Going back and fourth with bodies to Taylor Mountain to dispose
He could be quiet but at times act arrogant
Wishing he could be a governor, senator or president
Unexpectedly turning into a brutal madman
He always had a secret love for Diane
In the back of his mind
With other women on the side
Never once broke his ego or pride

You accurately decided to turn him in
Then regretfully went straight for the gin
Turning your life into a three-sixty tailspin
Theodore got what he deserved
With death row he served
It’s been thirty-two years since he’s vanished
Finally feeling loved and cherished
You’re no longer alone and withdrawn
There are no other men like him, thank God
That Theodore finally deserved what he got, getting caught

Over forty years those events are apart of American history
Your life with him is no longer in misery, but a victory
Theodore’s atrocious actions, taught us women to watch out for our loved ones and surroundings
As we go out on fun outings
With new people we just meet
Out in the city street

I’m so sorry went through all of this
He’s now gone into a dark abyss
But you did what you had to do
If I were you, I’d do the exact same thing too
Enjoy life’s greatest pleasures
Getting all the happiness that life gives you,adventures

Theodore left an unknown legacy to himself and to everyone, in American history.
That two hundred years from now, women’s children’s, children, children will learn about Ted Bundy and his devious wrongdoings back in the simple, maniacal, chaotic nineteen-seventies.

When his hopeless, vulnerable innocent victims that weren’t able to make it, didn’t get the
opportunity to
accomplish life’s greatest gifts, as their lives were just getting started. They didn’t get the
chance to become wives, mothers or grandmothers when they should’ve. As over forty years passed since those tragedies began, there’s still this reminder of : NEVER EVER AGAIN.

Monsters unknowingly appear in all shapes, sizes and even faces. They instantly appear right in front of your face in any place at any time of the day. Morn

They don’t hide under your bed, basement or inside your closet, like our parents told us in children’s folklore.

But right in front of you as you walk down the street in your friendly neighborhood, grocery store or taking the edge off  talking to a stranger from the long days work at some random local bar or coffee shop. They could even be your best friend.

You. Just. Don’t. Know.

It’s like whenever you see a vintage VW Beetle, driving down the street downtown or down your neighborhood street, fellow women all around must feel an internal bone-chilling shiver creep down their spine’s. That that warning is still there to watch out, whom you encounter with. To never help a man who is in need.


So take  this notion to be aware of all of your surroundings and be cautious of who, when and where you talk to. Lock your doors, windows and get a high-tech security system if you have to. Because you just never know, when your life will turn into a three-sixty mess in a matter of seconds.

his hobbies include
                          invisible girls
                     bubble wrapped
              shielding their eyes from the sun
                        up the side of his mountain
holding fast to the cable
                                  and the eventual terror of drawing
                     paper moons
                         framed a bit too
                                                   insular
                                                   binocular
                                                   funicular
                                                   vermicular
                         these out of sightlines
                                    opaque and cobwebbed
                               screening off
                       his ***** little secrets

Wrap my wrists in silver
And see what I do.
I saw the girl and shot her;
You want me to shoot you too?

Throw on the jacket,
Surround me in white,
I'm still going to escape it.
So come and join the fight.

Her body rots at this time
Her wheel chair is empty, left behind
Rain outside rids the proof
of the crime that's been committed and witnessed by the moon

A life has been lost
yet it does not matter
At bottom humans give birth
quicker than ******

Gently down the stream
is where blood was spilled
Her final resting place
Oh mother you must be thrilled

is it my fault,
that that’s what you grew up to be?
did we play too much army?
let you touch too much of me?
we were only seven darling,
always down the street running,
did you ever know?
of your daddy screaming
our buddy bleeding
your mommy’s drinking
of our glasses shattering?
or were you blind like me, too?
was there something i could have done, if my eyes were open too?