Had I known. Had I simply known. Had I looked into a crystal ball, eyes glowing all ablaze see the fuzzy memories ahead the future in a tell tale haze- I would have run. Run. Run so fast and so sweet I would have become the breeze A whisper of what is to come, I would have shaped this earth into ease Run so fast and gliding to the soil A moment borrowed from the past Tell the future me it was all a mistake and dreams do not last. Had I known. If I simply known. -b.r.rivera

We're all stories in the end. An afterthought to memories sticky residue formed by the cerebellum and ancient experiences. I remember this life as simply as the next adorned with what ifs,and sad maybe's, undesirable truths and rude awakenings. I could of had it all. That promised laugh, That joyful tear, That wrinkled smile. An afterthought to memories sticky residue formed by the cerebellum and ancient experiences. This road is not what it seems. I received advice a long time ago; choose the path less traveled and diverge often from the foothills and valleys peaking in sunset and light, shadows and darkness, earth and Heaven's above. I was supposed to be happy. Bring life to whatever was dead; the constant resurrection of soul stirring eras, being told and retold many seasons ago. For it was glory. Glory to be the present unwrapped, a child sprung forth of its mother's womb entangled in a cord and cut loose of any ties except destiny.

He showed me that all the world's a stage a constant manipulation of rehearsed lines and babbled manuscripts. he directs me. I put on makeup, carefully erasing wrinkles and worry lines creases from time. take a shot of liquor lubricant for frazzled nerves and  anxious butterflies still in their cocoons, buzzing to a wind that cannot hold them. shouting voices heard to an empty theater while crickets form an electric hum as the spotlight casts its vigilance upon me.  shadows dance on walls capturing moments past.  I hear the credits rolling already in my mind; who stars the show- who plays the sidekick, the annoying plot uncovered as the antagonist wins in the end.  Act Two, Scene Three enter stage right exit stage left. he creates a scene. tells me that he loves me. i invoke the numb set of emotions only this character can give half-heartily cry a little for the crowd, see that its all in vain the crimson curtain closes, its golden tassels swaying in the air- a single red rose