Anna Bell in Bumble Bee, Arizona #133 (Sorrow)

Saw a mural of the Christ smiling and rising in the blue sky; transfigured in the most mediocre way. It was terrifying and heart rending to see salvation rendered so poorly. It reminded me of you. Your exaltation is illness, your rapture is poverty.

Carlos in Grand Rapids, Michigan #132 (Hyperreality)

Pissed blood this morning. Tasted it in my mouth. I'm bleeding to death and I don't have any wounds. Trickles out my anus. Pours from my nose. Flooding from my ears. I'm bleeding to death and I don't have any wounds.

Isiah in Deming New Mexico #131 (Transcendence)

There's a fire out there in the distance. Flowers In the desert, flourishing without water. That's me. Blooming, opening when the sun stands on my tendrils calling the ancient throb of life from the secret, miasmic wound I had before I was born.

Brady in Willcox, Arizona #130 (Hyperreality)

Strains of flute music awaken birds of prey roosting in my circulatory system and they fly along the dried up creek beds in my veins searching for life and starving to death.

Jean in Iraan, Texas #129 (Anxiety)

Desert, shrubs, rocks, scorched earth. Desert is my fear. Aridity. Godlessness. Dead Animals. Nothing lives, nothing is alive. Border between dreams and waking life.

Abegbe in Sokoto, Nigeria #128 (Love)

Walking in the weeds. Broken bottles. Trash. If I were a god unanswerable to man or God, I would strike you dead for the pain you've caused me but since I'm a quiet, lost girl those wounds accompany my beaten and sorrowful love.

Tara in Grand Ridge, Florida #127 (Sorrow)

The fronds of a flowering Palmetto tree. Heartbreaking life bursting from the grieving earth. Roots coiling around the bones of my little boy who drowned in the Apalachicola River in 1972.