via Etched In Blood
Forbidden
The taste of lust on your tongue
The longing for a desire that has been sparked but not begun
The question if this forbidden is a gift
Make way for a life ending with a kiss
Wrapped in tangles of bewildered thoughts
You chose me
When I didn’t want to be loved
You held my hand when my heart was broken
And I pushed you away
You, still, gave life to me
When the cold grip of death had me in it’s embrace
You fought for my life
Shielding against my fears
Saving me from myself
Changing my desire, my grit, my will
You’re not the love of my life because you’re beautiful
You’re the love of my life because you saved my soul
I’d rather die in the light than be an enemy to it
You are my light
My purpose
I want no other thing
Than to please and be pleased
By the joy our love brings
Love me again
Merciless
Ever just want to break down and cry
But you don’t
Your decisions
Your life
Your fault
Someone stop the pain and aching inside
Largest pangs are from the smallest things in life
I try and I try
As hard as I can
I sing real loud
To hide from my emptiness
Dance sometimes
Get my body in the way
My heart aches less while I’m moving
Sad, that’s happiness to me
Still choking in a box
Waiting to be freed
Eyes wide shut
Wanting to be seen
Fist balled tight
But my mind can’t see
Chest clamped in a vice
It’s getting harder to believe
In Anything
It’s getting harder
To breathe,
Trying not to close off the world
Failing miserably
Still, I try to fit in
Let me put on my smile
With a make-up kit
Plaster on a face
Who’s face I don’t care
I just want to slip into life unaware
Friend?
See my pain
As your sight passes my threshold
Windows to the soul
They’re closed
Is there hope for me?
What else do I have to give?
Search me
I bare to you my soul
Have mercy
Take not what you don’t own
Forbearance
Find love in me
I’m floating in a sea of abyss
Mercilessly
Made By Pain Part 1
You said you loved me
That’s why I said I do
Then you vanished from me
The charming, funny guy I knew
Your hands are on me
I’m thinking how dare you
I dare not say it
Still gotta get the kids from you
Mom said she didn’t like the look in your eyes
I should’ve listened
Now I sacrifice
A moment of safety found in his daily routine
He sits in the tub to sleep
I have a chance to think, to breathe
My mind wanders, plotting for weeks things I could never say aloud
I’ve found a way out
The time is now
But his death? Can I live with it?
It’s him or me,
But, the kids?
Before I talk myself out of it again
I slap my face, I need to be urgent
“Juju, grab your brother and run
Here’s my cell phone go outside dial 9-11”
She looks at me with her big brown eyes
Does she know my plan
Tears down her face,
I wipe them
“Be strong for mommy
Just say there’s been an accident”
She’s terrified,
I reinforce,
“Baby, it’s okay, Daddy’s just having a long dream
It’s important to do what I say”
Kissing her forehead I whisper,
“Go Juju, go! It’ll be ok baby”
She goes, but I don’t think she believes me,
Cadence in my voice must’ve given me away.
They’re out of the house
I climb the stairs his drink in my hand
Today I take the power from the man
My freedom already in his bottle
All he has to do is sip, he’ll see
Today is the day he’ll hit me
“Carol! I’ve been waiting for almost an hour for my drink”
Such an eerie tone for a complete creep
“I’m sorry, it wasn’t cold, something happened with the fridge and…”
“Shut up woman,
Bring my drink, then in the corner on your knees
While I think
Hmm, what should your punishment be?”
“Master, can it wait until the children are asleep?”
“You beg for mercy, I’ll consider your request,
On your knees, you know what’s coming next.”
He downed his drink as he stood,
How is this cowardly rat my husband too
All desires for him to touch me are long dead, buried, and passed into another’s worlds eternity
I have to fake it or be killed.
Forcing myself for my children
I do it for them.
He wobbles towards me,
It has to be the drugs?
In case it doesn’t work, I stand
“Babe, what’s happening to you?”
He slips and falls, hitting his head on the tub,
Thinking to myself,
“This is working as it should.”
Running to my kids
Fear kicks in
What if they check for drugs, for poison?
God forgive me
What I have done?
How do I tell my kids their dad is gone
Oblivious to my pain as Cam plays
Wonder stretched across Juju’s face
Her eyes are talking to me
I open my arms
She runs and gives me a hug
She’s 13, I’ve taken innocence from her
A siren sounds
I look up,
“Hello Mr. Officer”
“Ma’am we got a call,” the officer said
“He’s in the bathroom, he hit his head, I think he’s dead”
The officer runs inside
I feel like he was staring at my black eye
The bruises all over that I can no longer hide
The severity of agony he can readily see
If I tell him what happened, maybe he’ll help me
Everything is bubbling all over inside
The officer yells to his partner
“Call for help, he’s still alive!”
I rose to my feet in haste
“Juju, stay here, watch Cam, wait for mommy!”
Running up the stairs watching them resuscitate
The paramedics got here so fast
Is everyone against me?
This can’t be happening,
No! He can’t be allowed to live,
Not with everything he’s done to me
The rape, abuse, torture, and lies
Continual mind games
He’s ruined my life
No friends, family
He’s preys constantly on my mind
Praying to God,
I need him to die
He gasps for breath
I can’t stand it I cringe
Hand on a knife I have in my pocket,
Juju burst through the door
Letting go of the knife, I grab on to her
“Baby, where’s Cam?”
“He’s in his room coloring, Mom, is daddy gonna be ok?”
I just hug her, afraid of what I might say.
They put him on a stretcher
And run him out of the door
Unsure of the residue
I rinse the bottle and put it on the floor
Opening the door, “Can I help you, Officer?”
“Can you tell me what happened?”
This is a different cop, he doesn’t care about me
I’m not ready to answer
I don’t know what to say
“Can we do this at the hospital, I wanna make sure my husband is ok.”
“I’m sorry ma’am, I just wanted to know if I could help in any way”
“I just need to gather my kids and we’ll be on our way.”
Mentally I’m scrambling
“If there’s anything you want to tell me, now would be the time?”
“Mr. Officer, is there something on your mind?”
He just looks at me as if it’s so obvious,
I’m shaking and furious
And wondering if they’ll take my kids.
I haven’t seen my mother since I married Robert
But she is the guardian for them both
I don’t even know if she knows
Either way, she’ll be great
I won’t cry for them
If they take me away
Moments pass, “I’m sorry, officer, I’m in shock I can’t think. I’m too nervous can you drive me?”
He takes the bait
He’ll wait
I did not think this through
Before I could blink we were
Arriving at the hospital
All I wanted to hear was
“Sorry, we did all we could do”
Internally wishing him dead
They call me in
I get other news instead
“He’s alive, we’re just waiting for him to wake up
He’ll be in a lot of pain
We had to pump his stomach.”
I gasp in shock, “I don’t understand
What does this mean for my husband?”
The doctor replies, “It means he will live and not die.”
He sees the pain and fear in my eyes
I smile, “Thank you doctor!”
He turns away
I sigh
This news is somewhat of a surprise
He was evil before
How do I survive?
I go towards his room and open the door
The walls fade away
He’s taken my soul
I have no will to live
Save my kids
If there was a way to take him out
I’d die with him
Lost/Always
I sought hope
She escaped
I fell to my knees
Lost breaks me
All I wanted was the need to believe
Faith is ever fading
Wasting hastily
Hunger deteriorated
Deserted in silence
Nothing’s fulfilling
Aches almost violent
Longing is haunting
Still
Always
Wanting
Craving a presence
Break me out of my cell
This prison inside I made for myself
I buried the keys in the sand
Mind, body, and soul
Staggering
In search always
Always wanting to be found
Seeking for a love
Though I’m turned off
I’m so lost
Alone, depression seizes me
Ever ready to jump off a cliff
Voices whispers
“There’s nothing holding you back. Go ahead, do it!”
Your love, it arrests me
Your heartbeat beckons my name
Your want summons me
Its strength gravitates me to your plane
There’s a channel to my spirit
The frequency always hidden
Noises, muzzled sounds
Echoes of silence
Something, someone
Always trying to get through
Finally a voice
A word,
You
Lost in the pitch of your voice
Such peace in your laughter
The lust in your tone
What else in life matters
Man was not made to be alone
You pulled me out
Safety being raptured feels like home
Thoughts At Midnight
Open your heart to me
Let me see
You
Like no other has
My keys fit your locks so
Let me pass
Have I not proven my love
Look into my eyes
See past my facade
You know this love feels right,
Like life, how it’s supposed to be
Take me as I am
You’re already a part of me
My lungs
My heart
So intertwined in how I breathe
And move
And go about my life
An extension of myself
A limb
A sense
Hairs on my arm raise in your presence
You present a challenge
For me to be more
To deserve a chance to earn your love
I extend my time, my emotions, myself
You wear your heart on your sleeve
Let me guard it
Speak
Your words are hidden in the crevices of your heart
Where love doth spark
I seek not to entertain
I hope to remain
By your side
In your mind
A lifetime’s full
You are mine
Eternity
I am yours
All of me
Eternally
Royalties???
Hello Peeps, I got my first “royalties” check in the mail and it made me question my sanity. It couldn’t buy a jar of peanut butter. Then my mind trailed off for a while on a tangent trying to discover if I’m writing for a check or writing to fulfill some space, some emptiness within me. So, I asked myself if no one ever bought any of my books would I still write. Without a second to pause, the answer was, Yes! I don’t know how to not write. Everything within me turns into a song or story or something written with heart and wonder.
I talked to a lot of writers and found out that they also go through the struggle. Whether they self-published or had a publisher, advertising always popped it ugly head asking for more of the pie. Don’t fret, everyone is going through something, just stay the course, keep asking questions and above all…don’t give up!
I know a lot of us write our stories wanting to change lives, but if no one reads are just killing ourselves. Writing is work, very hard work; the time you spend writing, the pressure for it to be good, the research to make sure it’s real. And then the payoff is so small, is it worth the effort? If it’s what fulfills you then climb aboard and don’t give up until you reach your destination. Sometimes we need to put more coal in the fire, just don’t let the light go out.
There’s no easy way to say it, the money will come or it won’t but your talent can’t be taken it can only grow if you train it and guard and don’t downplay it. It’s easily hurt. When people ask, “What do you do?” stick your chest out like a peacock, “I’m a writer! What do you do?”
To all my writer friends don’t give up, don’t beat yourself up, we’re in a competitive, alluring, and addictive business. Keep falling in love with your words, we will feel what you feel.
Published Author!
Hey Hey Peeps! So, I’m a published author now. HOORAY! It’s still so surreal you know. I’ll be at the doctor’s office and they’ll ask, “Occupation?” this devious smile comes over my face as I say, “Published Author.” I know I know, I’m not Stephen King and you don’t see me on TV, yet, but, I am a published author. I, me, between raising 3 children 6, 3 and 1 and husband which includes: Homeschooling, cleaning, laundry, rearing, baby shark and endless listening to random tales that never end. Don’t get me started with also having to keep up with my 6 siblings and their SO’s and offsprings, mother, father, grandmother, aunties, last living uncle and my babies I tended to in Ghana who still reach out to me all the time. All of that going on daily and I still managed to complete a book and get it published. Now that I’m published there’s a whole new set of rules. Can’s and cannot’s. Run by’s and check-in’s. It’s kinda cool though. The fact that a group of people looked over my writing and decided I was worthy is a great feeling. They put in the work right beside to get something great.
Kyanite Publishing LLC is a author based, author founded, author run family that are full of support and positive reinforcement. Everyone I worked with, personally has been super helpful B.K., Sophia, Sam! To name a few, they’re all so super helpful and talented and they care. Writing that book robbed me of so much sleep, but it was so worth it to hold her in my hands and she’s beautiful.
My pain and my joy, She Cried Wolf, was released in September of 2019. My life has never been the same. That feeling of accomplishment still rushes me when I wake some days. Random people tweet, “Oh, I ordered your book, can’t wait!” I’m stunned, “Thank you!” I mean I say thank you, but, is that enough? Can they feel my tears? The steady streams, flowing down my cheeks. One person choosing me is no small feat, there are so many millions of books being released yearly, over 5,000 a day and you picked mine. Awesomest feeling ever! No, Auto correct, I meant awesomest and I’m not changing it! Because it sums up exactly how I feel. And now you’re here, reading these, my words, and I get that feeling all over again.
Well, thank you for visiting and if you have anything to say, leave a comment. I love the interaction, keep in mind I am pretty silly.
Weekend Reads Reviews
Hello Peeps, I recently a started hashtag on Twitter #weekendreads. I started #weekendreads for a specific purpose. Get people reading! We’re all so busy writing, some of us, including me don’t take the time to refine our craft and read. If it doesn’t apply to you, kudos, if it does, don’t feel ashamed. I used to think that if I read other people’s work that it would bleed into mine and I would incoherently write in their style, like I would borrow their words. Well, I’ve been reading tons of books and my writing has only gotten better and it dawned on me, all the words are borrowed but each author has their own release, their own representation of how the words should display themselves. So I started a hashtag in the hopes that others would see a book they may want to read even if it’s not mine and be inspired to read.
I also realized, duh, you have left no reviews for people to follow. I mean, I leave reviews for each book on every site I can think of: Amazon, Kobo, Barnes and Noble, Goodreads, everywhere. On my blog however, nada. I’m thinking that needs to change. I thought I’d leave reviews of how the books make me feel. What I go through, or what I think the characters or going through with poetic expression. I didn’t plan it but it hit me and I went with it and now I can’t stop.
Here’s a list of the books I’ve read recently. My TBR (TO be Read) List is long but I don’t mind, it’s my midnight joy. I either read or write and they both are satisfying.
River by Ryen Lesli
FairyTale Lies by D.K. Marie
The Darkness Returns by Michael Nadeau
Bits and Pieces by Dawn Hosmer
The End of Echoes by Dawn Hosmer
Night Shift by B.K. Bass
Silver Glass by Anna Read
Guest Blog Tears in the Rain: The Emotional Impact of Storytelling
By B.K. Bass
One of the primary objectives of any kind of storytelling is to invoke an emotional reaction from the audience. The methods and results of this might be painfully clear in some situations, such as a love story or a tragedy. In other situations, such as an action-adventure story, this might not be as clear. Think back though to the last flashy action movie you watched. Consider that big, climactic battle or chase scene. Were you excited? Were you anticipating the outcome of the situation and what those results might mean for the characters? That, too, is an emotional reaction. Even the goofiest comedy invokes an emotion: joy. You don’t have to end the journey crying or longing for love to have your emotions prodded by a story, and as a writer you don’t have to focus on these two things to get an emotional reaction from your audience.
A lot of what I write, despite the particulars of genre, can fall under the general umbrella of the action-adventure story. Even in these there is a cycle of tension and release that plays with the audience’s emotions. Two warriors clash with sword and shield, death just one misstep away. A police officer races through the streets to apprehend a fugitive, but will he catch them? A thief balances carefully on a ledge, the town guards just below him. People talk a lot about pouring your own emotions into your work, but you can play emotions like the strings of a guitar with pacing, tone, mystery, and danger. That’s what I usually do.
There are those situations where we pour everything into our writing. Phebe Yawson’s She Cried Wolf is a fantastic example of this. I was privileged to be the developmental editor for this book, so I went on Tyese’s journey with her and saw the raw emotion Phebe had poured into this book. It was striking how powerful some scenes were, and they echo with me to this day. I think you get to know Phebe more following Tyese’s story, because I could tell that she poured a lot of her own personal experiences and emotions into the book.
I mentioned that I usually write an action-adventure, and rather than pouring emotions into the story I fine tune narrative aspects with the calculated intent of affecting the reader’s emotions. There’s one exception to this, and that’s my upcoming post-apocalyptic novel, What Once Was Home. This book and She Cried Wolf couldn’t be more different from one another at first glance, but when you dig down into the emotions that lie under the settings, plots and characters; you find they are very similar.
There’s a lot of shared themes between these books, and loss stands out as the strongest connecting thread. Loss of innocence, loss of home, loss of loved ones. Like I suspect Phebe did, I took many of my own experiences and emotions and used them to stoke the fires of creativity when I wrote What Once Was Home. Like Tyese’s story, Jace’s is a personal one where the main character must come to grips with repeated adversity and loss. Despite these obstacles, they both persevere. They grow and become more than they were, and they seek to discover a way to preserve some shred of purity within themselves even though they are faced with difficult decisions. How each of them approaches these obstacles, and the results of their decisions, are different.
She Cried Wolf is a contemporary paranormal fantasy book full of magic, monsters, and focusing on family bonds. What Once Was Home is a post-apocalyptic military science fiction book with aliens, armies, and focusing on the importance of community. But, at the core of both She Cried Wolf and What Once Was Home, these are stories of what the human heart can endure.
Click here to find out more about Phebe Yawson’s She Cried Wolf, and B.K. Bass’ What Once Was Home.
About the Author
B.K. Bass is an author of science fiction, fantasy, and horror inspired by the pulp fiction magazines of the early 20th century and classic speculative fiction. He is a student of history with a particular focus on the ancient, classical, and medieval eras. He has a lifetime of experience with a specialization in business management and human relations and served in the U.S. Army. B.K. is also the Acquisitions Director for Kyanite Publishing, the Editor-in-Chief of the Kyanite Press journal of speculative fiction, and the Writing Department Chair for Worldbuilding Magazine.
