Crouched in the hidden ramparts of my forlorn soul, the night skips naked like a stone, dark across the quivering lake.
Crouched in the corner of my psyche, parched lip tremble, I am the child once again, held captive by shimmering ghost that have shaped my past and present.
Translucent ghost scream, the noise reverberates throughout the creaking wooden house of no way out.
The yellowing pages of my story flicker by, in a wild torrent of amber hued self destruction.
I have awoken from a nightmare, the ghost of my past disperse, they can not claim my future, I stand tall and proclaim in the voice of sheer triumph, life has return to me.
Bio: Wayne Russell is the proud recipient of the stay at home dad award, his wife out earns him and so they jointly decided that she should be the "bread winner" and that he should be the house husband, and sole care taker of their 2 children that are both on the autism spectrum.
In his spare time Wayne leads the charge into the uncharted realm as the founder and editor of Degenerate Literature. Oh, and he has been published a few times over the years in a few low brow, down trodden zines, and he would not have it any other way.