Who is the ghost  in the mirror before me? Why is there a chill that I give myself? Why can I not speak to others anymore? Why have I become a mirage to the world? Why not end it? And become that ghost? Carefree in the netherworld but really? Ghosts...

Melancholy and mysterious...Stout you are with thorns which bite!Open your veiling, black petals for me so I can gaze into your eyes!To see your face, perhaps the shining from mewill attract you to this handsome star?Still, your thorns desire...

On our way intoSanta Anita one day,an old man had tippedover in his wheelchair.There was a pool of bloodbeneath his smooth head.I was with my Dad.He was around the sameage as the poor injured man.I was 12.Seeing that man,...