My New Love

My new love embraces me with the freedom to speak.

The words just roll off my tongue.

It ignites in me a fiery passionate unparalleled to the sun.

It takes my pain and allows me to breathe.

It unburdened me; removes the clasp of hurt off the edges of my heart.

My emotions become one with it and a sense of liberation is at hand.

Such a strong bond created when I decided to rely on it; to save me; to comfort me.

The consolation I have always sought; I have finally found it.

Who knew it was there all along. Just waiting for me to realize it was always there.

Even when I have nothing else, it is there.

Lying in wait—patiently.

My dream; my writing.


The Weeping Girl

The weeping girl lays in the dark listening as the club goers walk home. The streets alive and tears roll down her face. The pain of being ignored. The pain of indifference fills her heart and mind. Alone with no one to empty out her bag. Pain in solitude is an emotion close to death. She wonders why, why must she face it alone? Why must she hold it in? The candle flickers and her heart is hurting. She left because she knew it will be the same. The same effect attached with the same cause. She is no longer surprised, but expects it; like routine of getting ready for work. She knows her role and though she wants to scream out in rage. She knows it will fall silent to those she wants it heard by. So she holds it, slams the door– out of impulse, but holds her hurt inside. It runs through her body– the yearning. All because she begs for them to care; to show that they care. She locks herself in a room and locks herself inside her heart.  The weeping girl hurts. They hear her weeping and all they do is walk by and leave her in the dark. She gets up, because she expects it. The surprise is no longer there. She feels sadden that she somehow accepted this part of her life. That she accepted being shut out, disregarded, and ignored. That her extended hands rejected by their reaction. So she leaves and sits in the dark and deals with the pain alone with how she learned to finally be. The weeping girl always hopes for change and difference; for they say that hope should always be the last thing that dies, but she believes it is the first.

This Place I Dream Of

I dream of a place filled with palm trees green as they come. To be surrounded by mountains with the smell of sea salt lingering in the air. The clouds slightly covering the golden Sun. To spend the days warm with a touch of dryness on the skin. The nights comfortable with clear skies to watch the stars twirl across the night with their ribbons of fire. Being embraced by your lover’s arms.

I dream of a place with the Moon high upon its throne. Its light turning the sand into silver dust. The lake sparkling with flecks of gold.

This place I dream of you can smell love and happiness in a gentle zephyr with a hint of cinnamon. You can feel peace wrap you in its blanket, the way a mother holds her newborn child. Where empathy  is intensely given and love is openly received. Where kisses bursts with colors; flashes of pink, red, and white. Sadness is consoled by unity and anger diffused by kindness.

This place I dream, where does it exist? I truly believe in each of us. Deep down, past the gates of anger, hatred, and sadness. Past the door of pride that is already unlocked,  all we must do is open it…

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A letter

You all are too young to understand this world, me, or yourself. The innocence, which with each passing day, diminishes as you live in this world of ours. You will experience things in your life that can be explained and others that cannot. You will experience amazing, beautiful, life changing things, but you will also experience bad, awful, and destructive events. Whether you grow up to believe in God, a higher energy, or probably nothing at all, you must focus on the higher good of yourself. This world will change you—no one is ever left unchanged, but you can control how it changes you. Certain events in life can inspire you and sometimes destroy you, this part you are in control of. You can take the most horrific situation and find something beautiful out of it. Maybe not right away, but somewhere down the road. It may not even be for you, but someone close to you. Or simply others who are in need of it more.

Never be afraid to be who you are or to speak your mind. Don’t be afraid to be different and to stand out among the crowd. If someone hurts you, don’t be afraid to walk away. Even less don’t be afraid to try again elsewhere and with someone else. Do not punish the people around you and people you will meet in the future. Love yourself, respect yourself, and understand that you are great and worthy. Treat your mind, body, and soul well. Feed yourself, nourish yourself with knowledge, experiences, and freedom. Learn to make sacrifices without sacrificing your most valuable part of yourself. Don’t be afraid to say no, and don’t be stubborn to say yes. Try everything that will help you grow, for anything that values you will grow with you. Don’t hold onto money or possessions, to anger or to envy.

Love your family, love your children, and love those who support you. Be grateful and appreciate everything and everyone. We are prone to forget, to get used to, and can easily take others and things for granted. Learn to live with an open heart and open eyes. Please think before you act and think before you speak. Know that actions speak louder than words, and in some occasions our word is usually all we have. Be loyal and trustworthy, for when these are broken it can be irreparable and difficult to get back. Reflect on your actions and communicate with those around you. This can be the bond that holds your life together. Have empathy and tolerance for those who are different from you. Stand by your beliefs and convictions.

Now I know this sounds like a lot and probably impossible, but it is not. The effort is more important than the act. For with time the effort will be your moral principle and all you can live by. You don’t have to be number one to matter. Just love what you do, be happy, and be proud of it. Don’t let anyone tell you otherwise. Be at peace with yourself, love yourself truly, and
only then can you really follow your heart. Take it from me it will not let you down.

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Red Silk Murders Episode 8 (mid-season finale)

The night had settled in as he looked outside his office window. The blinds were half way open letting in the streetlight glaze his shirt with stripes. He was angry and unconvinced of the story he was told. He went over the cases in his mind and remembered every victim and its details. He tried to fit them all together, maybe there was something he missed. Something that was in plain sight, but he had overlooked. He thought about Tom Johnson and wondered if Adam was capable of killing. He strongly believed everyone was capable of killing. Especially, if they had the confidence of not getting caught. He always found something off about Adam.
He turned around to his desk and laid out the crime scene photos of Tom Johnson. He knew it would take great strength to pull someone up by the neck with a rope. He felt confused on why the perp decided to put a scarf on the victim, especially the wrong color. Was there a reason? Was it purposely done to look like a failed copycat? Was it true what Claire said? Was Tom going after Adam, but happened to be at the wrong place at the wrong time? His gut told him that statement was too much of a cliché.
He lifted the pictures up to his sight.

Detective Crews: What am I missing…?
(Phone rings)
Detective Crews: Hey Doc?…I’m on my way. (hangs up receiver)
The Medical Examiner had told him that he found something. Crews took his jacket and headed to the precinct’s elevator. He could hear the squeak of his shoes against the waxed floor. He felt excited that he could finally get the lead he was looking for. The elevator seemed to travel slower as his mind filled with thoughts and theories. The doors opened and the corridor felt chilly. The feel of death lingered in the hallways; along the pathway to the examiner’s office. He hated to pass the morgue, he always felt as if something he couldn’t see stared at him.
He made it to the double doors that led to the examination room. He looked into the window first and saw David. A slender man with brown curls on the top of his head. His lab coat didn’t seem to fit him well and his glasses obscured his eyes. He saw him look up from the body and waved for him to enter.
Crews: What do ya got?

David was looking over the body and filling out the report of his findings.
David: (pointing to the marks) You see these markings? This marking, you see how it’s slanted up? Shows the victim was hanged post-mortem. Now you see this one? How it’s slanted down? This was the cause of death. (He lifted one of the eyeballs) see these blood vessels on the eyes, the inflammation? This is caused by asphyxiation.

Crews: Okay so cause of death is strangulation.

David: Yes um (pushing his glasses up) the victim is 5’11 and with the direction the line is going—
Crews: The perp was shorter than the victim…

Nurse: Did you hear me Mr. Moore? What are you doing out of bed?
He just stood staring at her; how he wished she was a red head. She was pretty enough to be his latest victim, but she was a brunette. Such a shame he thought. She held the tray in her hands, he could tell she felt uncomfortable. Jeremiah walked out of the bathroom and headed to the bed. He could feel the nurse follow him with her eyes. She walked quietly towards him like a cautious mouse. As he sat at the edge of the bed, she stood in front of him. He could smell her perfume, light and subtle, but as a predator he could taste it in his mouth.

Nurse: Let me fix that I.V. for you.
Jeremiah: No.
He looked directly into her eyes; her eyes had fear. She looked at the door when the doctor stepped in and rushed out quickly; avoiding his eyes.

Dr. Miller: How are you feeling Mr. Moore?
Jeremiah: Like a new man.
The doctor smirked and opened his file.
Dr. Miller: You had suffered a brain aneurysm. Explains the severe headaches, sensitivity to light and the seizure—
Jeremiah: I’ll live?
Dr. Miller: Yes, you are a very lucky man. Have you been hearing voices?
He knew if it were Adam he would have been taken off guard, but he was emotionless. The doctor took out a picture of his brain scan.

Dr. Miller: It seems we have found some abnormalities in your brain. (pointing to the center of the scan) I would like you to see Dr. Lynn Weeks for evaluation.
He handed him a card: Dr. Lynn Weeks PhD, MD 17 E16th STREET #4
Jeremiah looked to the door as a man walked in with his hands in his pocket. He showed identification to them.

Dr. Miller: I will leave you two to talk and I will set up your appointment. (Walks out)
Person: Doc. (nodding his head in greeting)
Jeremiah: Well now, look who we have here… Detective Crews.
Crews: I need to ask you a couple of questions about Claire.
It was nightfall as she stood in front of the hospital. She knew visiting hours were over as she looked at her watch. She thought about Adam. She decided to walk back to her car that was parked around the corner. As she walked briskly into the night, she passed by a car that seemed familiar. The black Buick Regal stood a couple of feet away from the hospital entrance. She looked inside and saw some files on the seat. She leaned in closely slightly fogging up the window with the breath of her nose, and saw a picture of a man with his family. As she focused closely she realized it was Detective Crews. She backed away from the car and looked quickly at the hospital’s main entrance. She felt panic grab her muscles and chills up her spine. She walked quickly to her car—almost running. She got into her car and put the keys into the ignition. She didn’t look as she sped out, but heard a band of car horns. She felt anxious and could hear her pulse in her ears. She wondered why Crews was at the hospital. How long was he there for? She didn’t want to go home, and remembered she had Adam’s keys. She decided to head to his apartment to gather her thoughts. She thought of everything that happened and felt sick to her stomach.
She opened the door to Adam’s apartment and felt around the wall for the light switch. She saw the blood stained carpet and sat at the edge of his bed. She thought about him, and felt terrible for not going up to see him. Her body trembled and she held herself.
Claire: I have to pull myself together- what was crews doing there? What am I going to do? What if they find out I killed Tom? My life is over…but that bastard deserved it! He deserved a lot more than what he got. I wish I would’ve tortured him first.

She took off her coat and went to wash her face. She walked into the bathroom and was surprised to see how neat everything was. He had everything in order ranging from size and color. She opened his medicine cabinet and saw prescription bottles. She read the names to herself, but didn’t know what they were for. She left the bathroom and started to look around his apartment. She felt curious about him now.
She walked over to his closet and turned on the light. She looked at his clothes and was amazed how organized everything was. She looked down at his shoes and noticed a box. She bent down and opened it, and saw that it was old case files. As she moved the box to the side she noticed that the floorboard was loose. She cleared the space and pushed down the floorboard. She felt apprehensive as she put her hand in the open space. She reached around and felt something cold against her fingers. She grabbed it and pulled out a knife with a black carbon handle. The steel blade was clean and sharp. She wondered why Adam kept it under the floorboard. She put her hand in again and felt around the space. It felt empty and was about to pull her hand out until she felt something soft—she grabbed it. She pulled it out and felt her heart stop—red silk. She stumbled back and laid against the closet door. She was gasping for air and felt like she was suffocating—an anxiety attack. She could feel her heart beat hard and her breath shaky, when suddenly the light went out. She jumped to her feet and felt around waving her hand to find the string to the light. She found it and pulled, but it wouldn’t turn on. She yanked at it frantically and stopped when she heard the floor squeak. Her voice trembled.

Claire: h…h…hello?
She felt tears run down her face. Her chest was sore from the rapid beating of her heart. The fear made her want to vomit.
Claire: (sobbing) please…
She extended her arms out searching for a wall. She realized the blinds and curtains were shut on how dark it was in the room. The search through the emptiness scared her. She heard breathing and dropped her arms. She began to slowly walk backwards. She bumped into something and felt someone cover her mouth tightly. She felt the breath on her ear and his voice chilled her veins.

Jeremiah: Surprise. (Claire’s muffled scream)

Red Silk Murders Episode 7

(Vital Sign Machine beeping)

Everything went dark, but he could hear Claire faintly calling his name. He heard what sounded like doctors yelling out his vitals. He felt pressure on his arm, a squeeze that made him feel like his veins were going to explode. He had a flashback of Claire and remembering being in her apartment. He heard a whisper in the darkness and could suddenly feel his senses awaken. Although he couldn’t move or open his eyes, somehow he sensed everything around him. He heard the whisper again. He wasn’t sure if it was in his head or someone by his bedside. He heard it again and concentrated on making out its words. He focused and cleared his mind enough to hear it, and realized it was his name being spoken by a man. It sounded familiar, but couldn’t tell if it sounded like himself. He saw flickers of light as if caused by a movie projector. He saw Claire standing by a bar with a pink coral dress. Adam wasn’t sure if he was just fantasizing about her. He saw people dancing, drinking, and laughing. He saw the reflection of a sign and was finally able to make out the words: Black Capricorn. Adam quickly realized that it was a memory. He remembered Claire telling him about Black Capricorn. He could feel his heart race and the vital sign machine confirming its pace. The scene changed and showed him having sex with Claire and saw his hand reach for something near his belt. The scene changed again and he was behind Claire over a desk, but in a different room. Her hair seemed longer and lighter. He put his hands on the corner of the writing desk. As the scene played in his head, something in the memory caught his eye. He looked towards a dresser and tried to see what it was. He focused and saw the picture clear— it was Samantha. Adam suddenly felt a sense of dread and could feel his heart drop with fear.
Adam: No… this is not possible…

As he realized that he was experiencing a memory, the more he remembered. He saw a flash and saw himself grab Samantha by the neck with a knife in his hand. He couldn’t bare the memory and tried to think of something else. He tried to guide his thoughts to good memories. Although there wasn’t many, he tried to change his thoughts. He couldn’t accept the idea that he was the one who murdered Samantha. He tried to think of the time he went to Mexico, a small village in Oaxaca. The girl he met there was kind and soft spoken. Suddenly he heard a voice loud in his mind, which shook his brain like a tremor ripping through the earth.


He saw flickering light and stood standing in a room. His room that he had when he was a little boy. Adam felt afraid and turned to see himself as a boy in the corner of the room crying. He looked at his bed and remembered the dingy bed sheet that was covered in cowboy hats, boots, and lassos. The wooden panels of the walls were worn and had dark spots that could be said how old the tree was, when they cut it down. He turned to the little boy and remembered exactly what day it was. He felt sick to his stomach. He approached the boy and tried to put his hand on his shoulder, but it went right through him. He watched the boy lift his head, and both he and the boy looked at the door. He saw a red headed woman open the door and behind her stood a round, sweaty, bald man.

Red Headed Woman: Here’s the little shit. You know it’s going to cost you more.

Sweaty Man: I know. How’s fifty?

Red Headed Woman: Fifty?! You gotta be fucking kidding me?

Sweaty Man: Come on Sylvia, I ain’t got nothing else.

Adam watched the woman think for a moment and sighed.

Sylvia: Oh alright. Fifty now, but you’ll owe me fifty more ya hear.

Adam watched the boy’s face scream with fear. He watched as he ran to the woman and grabbed her leg.

Young Adam: Please ma, don’t let him!

Adam could feel the nausea in his stomach and the pain he felt that his own mother would allow a stranger to hurt him; to abuse him. Adam watched as his mother looked down at the boy in disgust and spoke to the man.

Sylvia: You know what? I’ll take forty.

The man’s belly shook with laughter as he unbuckled his belt. Adam felt sick and hated thinking about his past. He saw his mother leave the room closing the door behind her. The boy screamed for his mother and watched the man slapped him across the face. Adam couldn’t take it anymore and saw the memory disappear into darkness. He heard the voice again louder than before.

Voice: LET ME OUT.

He saw the flickering light again and stood by the foot of his childhood bed. He saw the back of his mother’s head and smoke dancing through the air. He looked down and saw the boys feet react. Adam remembered that day as well, and felt the need to cry. He moved to the side and watched as his mother take a cigarette and burned the inside of his thigh. He heard his young self scream in pain and watched his tied hands turn red from trying to pull free.

Sylvia: Shut the fuck up you little shit!
Young Adam: Please mommy stop!

Suddenly flashes of memory appeared; Adam still felt the pain from the previous memory. As it played like a flip book, it suddenly stopped on a particular memory where he is grown, maybe fifteen years old, his face already worn from his hard life. He was skinny and saw his clothes hang on him like drapes. His dark hair was uncombed and his glasses hung onto the tip of his nose. He looked at the boy and saw a long knife in his hand. He saw him enter the living room and saw his mother facing the television with her back towards the young boy. Her red hair was up in a ponytail and reflected the high noon’s sun. She had a red scarf tied around her neck; she was fond of the French style. Adam could feel his heart race, he didn’t remember and watched the memory like a movie. He watched the boy stay behind his mother’s back and kissed her on the cheek. He couldn’t see her reaction, but saw when the boy took the knife and with a swift movement cut her throat.

Adam: NO!!

Adam cried and stood in shock watching the boy stab his mother repeatedly with an anger he’d never seen. Afterwards he removed the red scarf and covered his mother’s head. He watched as the boy slowly walked towards the mirror that stood hanging on the living room wall. Adam stood behind the boy and could see his mother sitting dead on the couch through the reflection of the mirror. He walked to the side of the boy and searched his face for remorse any expression at all, but there was none. He stood there staring at himself in the mirror. Adam felt sick and disgusted, but stood watching the boy until finally he made a smile as he removed his glasses. It went dark again and all he could hear was his heart beating.

Adam: No! No! This can’t be! I can’t be the Red Silk Killer!

Voice: LET ME OUT!

Adam: Who are you!? What do you want from me?!

Voice: I am you.

Adam: No! No! No!


He opened his eyes and saw that he was in a hospital bed. He looked down at his arm and saw syringes attached to a saline drip. He pulled it out and got up from the bed. He walked over to the bathroom and stared at himself in the mirror. A nurse walked in with a tray.

Nurse: Mr. Moore what are you doing out of bed?!

He looked at the nurse and smiled.

Red Silk Murders Episode 6

She saw his face change, but she couldn’t tell what expression he had. She could feel herself tremble with anxiety. Telling someone what she did made her feel worse than she thought it would. She felt sick and had flashbacks of Tom. She stared at Adam.

Adam: What?

She didn’t want to repeat herself, but she saw she needed to.

Claire:  I killed Tom.

She saw his eyes search hers; she guessed to see if she was lying. Although she felt shaken up, deep down she wasn’t sorry for what she did.

Claire: I killed him Adam. It wasn’t you.

Adam: I don’t understand. How could you kill him?

Claire: You really don’t remember anything from last night?

Adam: No Claire I don’t. Last I remember is being in my apartment with a headache.

She felt sorry for Adam. She could tell he was confused.

Adam: What was in the letter?

She couldn’t believe he didn’t know. After all that happened she couldn’t understand how someone could forget so much information.  She told him  about Black Capricorn and saw his face red with embarrassment when she told him about the sex.

Claire: Then, that’s when Tom came in.

She saw Adam look at his hand; the discolored knuckles. He looked upset and frustrated.

Claire: You left your wallet, and he put it in his pocket and he told me he was gonna go after you and I tried to stop him, because I know how he is and so…

She paused. She didn’t want to continue. She felt disgusted, ashamed, and nauseous . She looked out her car window and watched people walk by in their long coats; rushing to their destination to escape the harsh winter. She could feel a knot wedged in her throat and aching to hold back her tears . She put her hand to her chest trying to console herself. She stood silent in her seat.

Adam: What happened Claire? Please, I need to know.

She looked at him, but couldn’t see him clearly with the tears in her eyes.

Claire: He…

She parted her coat and moved her peach sweater to the side, exposing dark bruises. Adam placed his hand on the collar of her sweater and moved it to the side revealing more bruises on her chest . She felt so ashamed and angry; she hated to feel like a victim. She heard Adam whisper.

Adam: Oh my God Claire…

She pulled away from him

Claire: It’s not the first time he’s beat and raped me.  After he did it and walked out the door, I –I don’t know What came over me! I was so angry so tired of him putting his hands on me. When he told me he was going to take care of you I stood on my bedroom floor and something in me just it– just snapped.

She waited for Adam’s response, but he just stood silent in his seat. She could only hear the traffic and the people outside. Claire couldn’t contain herself and started to cry hysterically. She tried to pull herself together, but felt so emotionally exhausted. She placed her head in her hands and sobbed. She felt Adam’s hand on her shoulder, but he didn’t say a word. For a moment she thought how different Adam was compared to last night. She lifted her head and could see his face through the strands of hair, giving him a reddish color like stained glass. She could tell he didn’t know how to console her. He wasn’t open with his emotions, but she appreciated the gesture. She leaned over to him and placed her head on his chest. She felt his hesitation, but then felt him wrap his arms around her. She thought he smelled good as she cried in his arms. He patted her on the head and pushed her strands of hair away from her face. She felt embarrassed for leaning on him and saw that she had wet his shirt.

Claire: I’m sorry, your shirt is soaked. .

Adam: It’s alright don’t worry about it.

He grabbed the sides of her face and for a moment she saw the same fiery stare she saw in him last night.

Claire: I don’t know what I’m going—

He kissed her and she was slightly surprised he did. She had many thoughts cross her mind, but she couldn’t help but want him.

Adam: Come upstairs with me.


He tasted so good. His mouth sweet and tender; nothing compared to last night. He was more sensual in his movement. They stood at the foot of his bed. He caressed her body and put his fingers through her hair. His kisses became passionate and full of want. She could feel the need for his body overwhelm her with arousal. He started to undress her and kissed her bruises. She kissed him with so much intensity, but started to get flashbacks of Tom raping her. She remembered him punching her and feeling the pain of knuckles pounding her  skin. She pushed him back.

Adam: What’s wrong?

Claire: I’m sorry…I can’t. I want you and I want to, but—

Adam: It’s okay Claire.

She looked down at her feet and felt broken . She knew her life will never be the same.

Claire: I don’t what I’m going to do…

Adam: We’ll figure it out.

Claire: I feel so—oh my god Adam.

She saw blood drip from his nose.

Adam: What? (puts his hand to his nose)

Claire: You’re bleeding!

She watched him reach over for a tissue, but the blood started to come down faster. He fell to the floor and started to shake. She rushed to his side.

Claire: Oh my god Adam!!

She opened up her cellphone and dialed 911

Claire: Please I need an ambulance!… 2226 49th street 23rd floor…

She stared at Adam horrified when he stopped shaking, and she put her hand to his chest. She felt her heart fill with fear.

Claire:  Oh my god please hurry he’s not breathing!!!

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