Because sometimes all lives don’t matter…

I feel like I will get so much backlash for this and quite frankly I don’t care.

The latest world events have weighed so heavily on me. I feel like I’ve built up so much outrage that I haven’t been able to articulate and if I don’t now then it’ll spill out of the seams.

Black lives matter. All lives won’t matter until Black lives matter because black lives ARE apart of all lives. Anyone who ignores this fact is racist and fall victim to their implicit biases. It’s not a matter of opinion anymore. It was never a matter of opinion. It was a truth distorted by the loud, strategic oppressor. 

Some people, however, specifically non-people of color, specifically white people, try to discredit this fact because the narrative that is unfolding doesn’t suit their liking. Even while writing this I know that people will claim that I am being racist or biased or that I have my agenda because that narrative suits them best. I am not racist by any stretch of the imagination. I would almost consider myself “racially biased”.

Let’s think about it, shall we?

The definition of the word biased would be, “a particular tendency, trend, inclination, feeling, or opinion, especially one that is preconceived or unreasoned” or “unreasonably hostile feelings or opinions about a social group; prejudice” (

The operative word in the definition being any derivates of the word “unreasonable”. History and a distinct and predictable pattern of perfidy would make being biased an impossibility. People of color are painstakingly aware of the influence that people in power have. Even more so, they are aware of the power that they wield and we all know that with great power comes great responsibility.

Read the next part carefully.

I am not condemning all white people.

Let me say that again for the people in the back.

I am not condemning all white people.

I am condemning the WHITE PRIVILEGE.

What I am saying is that white people aren’t doing enough to dismantle the systemic oppression that is racism. For all those ignoramuses, yes IGNORAMUSES, that suggests that racism ceased with President Obama or popular black athletes and performers, you are welcome to leave now!

I will not waste valuable brain cells explaining to you the reality of living in white America as a black person when you are clearly the #KarenofEverything.

For those who act as if racism and implicit and external don’t biases exist, I am thoroughly confused. You under that plot of X-men and Zootopia perfectly, but are too dense to see the parallel to life? I find this very highly unlikely.

I have to wonder where the disconnect is. Is it because pro-white means anti-black and people of color so vice versa is the assumption? Is it because the media has helped color your perception of black and other people of color? Is it that you do not experience the very oppression that you are so dismissive of?

Is it the way we protest?

Well, we tried peaceful sit-ins and that didn’t work. We tried Nat Turner’s was and that wasn’t to your liking. Martin Luther King Jr, Malcolm X, Colin Kaepernick, nothing seems to suit you. Maybe it’s the protesting that the real issue.

Whatever the reason, it’s not enough. We are no longer accepting your excuses. We drew the lines firmly in the sand with our bloodshed in the name of being an “American”. Before the oh so familiar idiotic phrase “If you don’t like it, go back where you from” leave your diluted racist little fingertips let me offer a history lesson. The Oppressor captured and brought our ancestors here, emphasis on the word “brought”. No one kept a receipt. We aren’t going anywhere. Your homework is to look up Black Wall Street because our utopia burned down too.

We are now united. Do you want to find out what we can do standing together as one?

Until next we meet,


Pick up Scarred and Faceless

Because sometimes chasing dreams and motherhood don’t mix…


First of all, I got a new logo that included in the post. Let me know what you think. I think it came out fantastic. It makes me really happy and proud as an author.

But back to this weeks epiphany.

So for those of you who don’t know, I gave birth to a little monster by the name of Oscar. I have talked about him in previous posts more notably my first Odes post here. He is one a very large part of why I am still alive today. I love him with every breath in me. As much as I love him, motherhood is absolutely terrifying.

No seriously, there should be some sort of test because I’m positive that I would have failed. I can honestly say that I have NO idea what I’m doing. I love my little monster and I would do anything for him so he’ll have a better life. But as far as a plan, yeah I’m kind of clueless. My basic strategy is to give him a childhood that he doesn’t have to heal from. That is basically my sole purpose in life.

The only issue with being a parent and especially a mother is that people expect mothering to be your only goal and sole purpose in life. I’m not sad to admit, that it’s not mine.

I have other dreams.

I have other goals.

There are a lot of things I want to do and achieve.

It’s not selfish of me to want to be more than a mother as long as I’m not neglecting my child.

This goes for EVERY mother. You are so much more than just a mother. Don’t let motherhood be your only credentials.

There are so many things I want to do. I am a writer. That is a passion of mine that I want to share with the world. No one should be limited because of a title.

Until next we meet,


Storytelling is important sometimes because…


I feel as though storytelling is for the masses.  Certain stories just have a way of resonating with people in a way that benefits them. This is not a happy story.  It doesn’t have a happy ending. It has an ending that is typical because life is typical. Although every story is unique, no story is special in the sense of tragedies. Everyone goes through them. Everyone suffers.

“Life’s a bitch, and then you die.”

-Narrorator of 1000 Ways to Die

Being homeless in Harrisburg, Pennsylvania was an adventure, to say the least. I wouldn’t dare use any word synonymous with “enjoyable” nor would I recommend this experience to anyone. It’s almost like going to prison, an experience you would exchange for just about else.

I was one of the lucky ones. I never completely got engrossed in the lifestyle. I had a job, had meager funds to buy things, and wasn’t active in my drug addiction  (over 2 years clean and sober!)

There’s so much to know about being homeless. So many unspoken rules to follow. So many secrets you need to know.

Like I mention before, I had a job.  So I’d wake up, go to work and endure the nonsense of earning a paycheck. I loved my job. It was a break from all the craziness and the politics of being outside.

On days, when I didn’t work, I’d go to the local homeless shelter where you could sleep and eat lunch a noon.  It was like being in school. There were rules that had to be followed and monitored very carefully by staff. There were all sorts of things you could do there. Like take a shower, get clean clothes, get mail, get your hair cut, it was a homeless paradise.  There was also tones of trouble you could get into to, so they kicked us out at.

Then it was back to killing time til Dinner time.

There were always people coming to feed the homeless. Some people were forced to but the majority were just decent people. They’d bring huge spreads with a variety of foods for us too. Granted with the amount of us it wouldn’t last but it was, it was still delicious. After dinner, all there was left to do was kill time until nightfall. And nightfall was when all the drama began.

Nightfall was when the drugs and alcohol came out. It was when all the drama started. There was no shelter to it. The best you could do was stay out of it.  It helped to stay with people who had a sense of immunity to it. Or at least people who favored you enough to keep you out of it. I was lucky.  I ran with people who had jobs as well. People who could separate themselves from the drama. People who took care of themselves. When you are homeless, it’s important to remember to put yourself first and not get absorbed into the world around you.  Always remember, that you don’t want to make this temporary situation a permanent one.

Mine was temporary. After about 3 months, my father invited me to stay with him. Things worked out for a while, but not permanently. My point is every situation, however good or bad is not permanent. Things change in the blink of an eye. Stay ready, and be prepared.

Until next we meet

Breath and Exist,

S. Hollisway

Pick up Scarred and Faceless Here

Broken Hearted Girl Chronicles Part 1


So much has been going on lately. I’ve been absent, indifferent, and unmotivated. But just recently I was hit with a spark of inspiration and post a poem that’s been eating away at me for a while. It’s been so long since I’ve written anything. Let me know what you think.


Not My Place

It’s not my place

To ask you to stay

I mean

What can I really say?

Fact is

I’m not your actual kid

And what you did

And have already done

Is more than enough

A battle you’ve won

That wasn’t yours to fight

What she’s doing isn’t right

And it’s your right

To walk away

But I’m pleading with you

Please Stay


Until we speak again

Bleed and exist,

S. Hollisway





Because sometimes explanations are owed+ Updates+Contest



Well, it’s been quite a while since we last spoke. Things have been…predictably yet unpredictably insane. I’d have to put it into a book to fully explain the insanity in full. Actually, it would take quite a few books to capture it in its entirety.

But I digress…

But blogging makes me happy and in an effort to focus on things that make me happy, I will continue to blog on a more regular basis. I want to start blogging every  Monday, Wednesday, and Friday.  I did finally learn you can schedule posts, so I can post things and decided when they are posted which is cool.

So here is what’s been happening that I can tell you about.

I am working toward starting a business, and I’m working on two new projects at the moment scheduled for release early next year. I am also currently hosting a contest for the book trailer for Scarred and Faceless.

If you haven’t picked up this Gem up, just click the link above.

So, the CONTEST…

I want to do the book trailer with the voices of people reading the poems from the book. There would be 13 winners, one for each poem of the book. The winners will be featured in the trailer and will receive a free copy of my upcoming book, “Taystee Jones: Undercover Lover.”

Here’s how to enter:

  1. Must follow my twitter and like my facebook page, S.Hollisway
  2. Must be over the age of 18
  3. Must send audio file to
  4. Must label audio file the following: First and Last Initial_Title of Poem i.e SH_Bully
  5. Must sign waiver giving permission to use voice
  6. Must have fun

I think that’s it for today folks.

Until next we meet Stones

Bleed and Exist,

S. Hollisway

Because sometimes life happens so fast….


It’s been a very long time since we’ve had the chance to talk.  So much has happened since September.  I will try to fill you end without writing a novel in the process.

Well first of all, I was homeless. Less of the “couch bouncing” homeless and more of the flat out “sleeping on the streets, in tents” type of homeless. It was quite the experience. Let me tell you. Most people would assume that the homeless only had to worry about the elements. This is sadly untrue. A lot of people would also assume that most of the homeless are homeless through pure fault of themselves, or that they were all addicts who lost everything due to addiction and live that way to stay in their addiction. This is again false.

Most of the homeless are a very caring group of people. It’s like a family. They may have nothing, but if you’re in need, they will break their nothing in half and give it to you. Of course there are little spats now and then but at the end of the day,  they are family. However, with everything else in the world, there is a dark side. Being homeless can be like, being on an episode of “The Walking Dead”. As dangerous as everything else is, the other people are the most dangerous. In the end, it’s survival on it’s most basic and instinctual level. Some are cruel, conniving, angry, hateful people who will do anything to get a head. Sometimes not even to get ahead, just for the sake of doing it.

So, there was that.

Then, my father couldn’t take it anymore and asked me to move in with him and my mother. I did. It’s been a roller coaster here. My relationship hasn’t gotten any better. If at all possible, it’s gotten worse, along with the majority of my other family.  So, that has been wonderful. (My father has made a few other appearances in blogs —–> Dad’s feature Blog . He’s a reoccurring character. )

But the most amazing thing happened. I got a chance to write. I’m in therapy and I have medication with a pretty solid diagnosis. But I got to write. I’ve gotten a chance to pull out a little piece of me, stitch it together, and offer it up for people to view. It is absolutely terrifying but, if I didn’t do it now it was never going to get done. There is no “Perfect Time”.  Not to publish a book. Not to get married. And definitely not to have a kid. Just dive in head first and make sure you look good doing it.

Oh, and I started school. Yes, you are reading from an author/soon to by psychologist. So I will get back on a schedule with posting here. I’m also going to be redesigning the entire blog so that should be nice.  So much is going on and so much more is going to happen.

Ever wish time would just stop for a second, just a chance to catch to catch your breath? Me too. Unfortunately, I think this may be my only chance for a while,

Until we meet again stones,

Make a real connection with someone

Change someone’s life for the better

Forgive to heal your soul

Watch the world implode with a drink and a friend

Be Brave

Bleed and Exist,


Scarred and Faceless

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“Because sometimes”–SPECIAL EDITION!!


So, with everything going on, I decided to take a break from cynical realities of life and try romanticizing harsh realities of life. I don’t know if this will be a short story or something more. Let me know what you think.

ATTENTION: The following tale is based on true events. Characters are based on some of the most amazing people I’ve had the pleasure of meeting. Enjoy and I’d love feedback. 


And now, Our Feature Presentation!


Honor Among Thieves

My heart pounded in my ears as I ran through the darkness.  But I knew running in the darkness was futile. No matter how hard or fast I ran, darkness encased my every turn. I was running in place and my predators were gaining on me. I made another quick turn and my life flashed before my eyes for the umpteenth time in 22 years. I thought about the decisions that got me to this very moment.

Love. Acceptance. Respect. Protection. I spent my entire life searching for these, putting myself in life threatening situations for anything resembling this. I’ve damn near lost my life chasing after anything that displays itself as loving acceptance. But I soon discovered that these were pretty lies, always too late. I had bought another dream that never delivered. Now, I was finally going to pay for it. I screamed out loud for help. I’m not sure to who, or for what reason. Maybe it was just for good measure. But I screamed loud again as I rounded the corner and slammed body first into a human brick wall.

I groaned and rolled over to my side as if shielding myself from blows inevitable. After what seemed like hours of stillness, I gazed up through a guarded head, and saw the ominous figured standing above me. He was over 6 feet tall with long black hair. He was built like a brick wall–sturdy. At the angle I was at, I couldn’t make out his face. I slowly unfolded from my ball and that’s when the mountainous man began to move.  I flinched defensively, awaiting a blow. Peeking through my fingers, I saw his massive hand extended. I slowly reached out to grab it, and with a swift but gentle move, he pulled me to my feet. From this position, I could see his face more clearly. It didn’t seem to match his face. He had a beard, but his face looked young. He had soft features, and friendly light eyes. When he spoke his was a mixture of his appearance, gruff yet gentle and full of humor.

“Was wondering how long you were going to stay balled up like that.” He stated simply.

“Um, sorry.” I replied. It was the only thing I could think to say.

“Vultures chasing you?” He asked calmly.

“Um, vultures?” I asked confused. I hadn’t noticed I hadn’t been breathing and took long deep breaths to steady myself. I placed my hands on the wall to try to stop the world from spinning underneath my feet.

“Pack of guys, pouncing on anything that appears weak or ignorant of their position?” He explained, sitting against the wall.

“Oh, them. Yeah.” I answered. The giant reached into a sac beside him and pulled out two bottles of water and two packets of pop tarts. He handed me one of the bottles and a packet.

“You’re going to need to keep your strength up out here. Especially if you stay to yourself.” He explained. I cautiously accepted the gifts, trying to decide if I could trust him or not.

“So, your not one of them?” I asked anxiously. He chuckled.

“If I did the things they did, I wouldn’t really need a group.” He smiled and took a drink from his water bottle. “I also would have knocked you out by now.”

“Good point” I said sliding down the wall next to him. I opened the water bottle and took huge swallows. I began ripping into the poptart package when I heard the heavy footsteps and heady breathing. I tried to jump to my feet, but I was so dizzy, so weak. As the footsteps got closer, I began to panic. The giant rose to his feet with ease and stood in front of me just as the vultures rounded the corner.

It was as if  I was watching a cartoon, the leader stopping and the vultures slamming into him trying to stop. I had no idea what was occurring, but I was quietly looking for a way to escape. The vultures had the fear in their eyes as I did when I first met the seemingly friendly giant, but there’s didn’t dissipate.

“Still playing Captain Save A Hoe, Big E?” The leader asked snidely.  The giant smiled.

“Wrong guy in cape” He answered quietly.

“Look man, we don’t want no trouble. We just want the piece of meat behind you.” I felt my heart drop. I willed the giant to look at me, so he could see my pleading eyes, maybe he would find a reason to spare me. When he did finally look at me, he smiled with crazy eyes, and pulled out a hunters knife. My breath got caught in my lungs as he turned back to the vultures.

“I’ll make you a deal. Any of you can get through me to get to her, and can get her physically past me, she’s all yours.” He said in the same unbothered tone had used before. The vultures froze, as if contemplating the challenge. The leader looked pissed and was becoming antsy.

“Come on Man! We’ll even share her with you.” He bargained. The giant glanced in my direction as if considering the terms.

“I don’t share” He replied. The leader was irate now and spewed out a slew of obscenities.  He even spit in the giants direction. But, he didn’t make a move towards him. Which mean he didn’t make a move towards me. The giant didn’t flinch.

“This ain’t over.” He bellowed before signaling to his crew to retreat. As the vultures receded, the giant picked up his bag and started heading in the opposite direction.

“You coming?” He asked casually over his shoulder. I quickly ran to catch up with him.

“Um, thank you for what you did back there.” I thanked him

“No problem” He simply replied.

“Well, I’m Kay” I told him nervously.

“Batman.” He stated. I stared at him confused.

“You’re Batman?” I asked slowly. He smiled mischievously and nodded.

“Although some call me E.”

“So, I presume we’re headed to the Bat cave?” I asked laughing.

“To see Alfred and Robin” He replied. I laughed some more than got nervous.

“By the way, um…I like girls. I mean I like people…just not…um….” I had no idea how to go about this.

“Not interested in anything no consensual. Or selling people.” He stated again, in the same unbothered tone.

“Oh, good. Great! So we’ll just have contest to see who can pull the most girls.” This statement got a large bellowing laugh from him.

“No competition. I got the rugged good looks. You’re much too dainty.” I couldn’t help but laugh.  Laugh at the joke. Laugh at life. Laugh at this new adventure path I was taking with this stranger deemed Batman. Laughed because I finally had a break before the next wave Life would hit me with.

To Be Continued……

Until we meet again,

Make a real connection with someone

Change someone’s life for the better

Forgive to heal your soul

Watch the world implode with a drink and a friend

Be Brave


Exist and Bleed,



Scarred and Faceless

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