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12 de sep. de 2018 · 5m 17s
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September 11, 2001 6:40 am Visions much deeper than a knife travel through me, around me, into pools of dried blood and paint. From the chips, they fall…captured stories to...

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September 11, 2001
6:40 am

Visions much deeper than a knife travel through me, around me, into pools of dried blood and paint. From the chips, they fall…captured stories to which I share. There’s got to be a hidden message! It’s then, I’m given a thought, “Never expect a stone to talk…ask your heart, it’s almost just as hard.” I see foot prints headed toward murky waters…do I choose to follow or prepare for their mud covered return? The guts of a cow make up my face—burn me til dead; I don’t want to return again. Why am I singing Amazing Grace?

9:03 am I sit watching, two incredibly tall buildings are spewing smoke! A 737 airplane has hit one of the towers. Is this a terrorist act? The news anchors are in question—they’re feeding our minds, our fears, our worst nightmares.
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Autor Arroe Collins
Organización Arroe Collins
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