Saturday, September 26, 2015

A Visit with J. Nelson Leith

Today, I'm heading over to J. Nelson Leith's site to check out a new twist on an old tale. You know how I am a fan of dark and twisty; sometimes, not all the endings are happy. Come check out "The Princess and the Pea" as told by J. Nelson Leith.

Original artwork by J. Nelson Leith.

Saturday, January 17, 2015

Kind of Advocacy

Why don’t they leave? Because leaving can be deadly. In the rational train of thought, being beaten is much better than being dead. These are choices survivors have to face.  The lesser of two evils.

I question why we don’t have harsher laws in place to protect those who face these decisions? Why do we not have programs in place to help people on all levels who have tried to leave, or who want to leave, but can’t? Why do we put the responsibility of the violence on the victim?

After a recent homicide-suicide, I searched public records to explore the history of the particular case. I was infuriated to find that the shooter had been arrested multiple times over the years. Several of the arrests were relating to violent crimes. Robbery with a firearm or deadly weapon, Battery, Aggravated Battery, two Battery arrests involving domestic violence. All of the charges in his record were dismissed or dropped by the State Attorney’s Office with the exception of a couple traffic violations. He ran a stop sign and was charged for it, as well as driving with a suspended license.

Further investigation on my part brought to light the fact that an injunction was filed against the shooter by one of the people he killed. The injunction was denied. The injunction was filed for last year. The person who filed the injunction was shot and killed this week.

I would like to be able to say this is an exception to the cycle of domestic violence, but sadly it is not. Domestic violence is about power and control. Domestic violence is not about anger issues. If anger issues were the problem, then the abuser would show their ass in public every time they got mad about something.
An abuser is a master manipulator. An abuser can be anyone. I’ve often heard people say they were shocked when it was found out a particular person was an abuser. They were so nice. Gosh, they helped so much in the community, I can’t believe it. What did the survivor do to make the abuser hit them?
I try not to get angry at people for their ignorance. But, it’s time we start changing people’s understanding of domestic violence. It’s time we stop remaining silent when we hear the neighbors fighting. It’s time we stop looking away when we see a coworker with a black eye or strangulation marks on their neck. It’s time we stop pretending we live in a ‘happy’ society. I really don’t know who is more dangerous; the abuser, or the people who ignore the abuser’s actions so they can continue.

After all, if no one is stopping them, not even the law, then it must be okay to beat the shit out of your partner, right? I wish people would understand that every time you turn a blind eye to an injustice in this world, you are supporting that behavior. This applies to all injustice. Not just on our home land, but around the world.

It’s funny to me that we preach tolerance and acceptance, yet that tolerance and acceptance applies more towards the bad that happens in the world, and not where it belongs, in taking action. We should all be standing together to fight the injustices that occur on a daily basis. I watch as people spread hate, as they victim blame, and as they take no action. Your opinion doesn’t make change.
So, what can you do?

Start with this question; what do you feel strongly about? What topics do you read in the media that make you feel irate, sad, empowered? When you say to yourself, “I wish I could….” What is it you wish you could do?

Now, reach out to an organization that supports those causes. There are several things you can do to help. You can work for an organization, you can volunteer, you can donate, you can help spread the word of that organization. Be sure you investigate first, to make sure the agency is valid.

For me, one of my causes is domestic violence. I cannot stand the thought of someone feeling so helpless that they have to choose between being beaten or dead. I cannot stand the thought of the horror the families see. I cannot stand the thought of the children who have to go through violent situations. I cannot stand the thought of a justice system that does very little to help people who need it.

If you are in an abusive relationship, and remember abuse isn’t just physical, please call the National Domestic Violence Hotline at 1-800-799-7233.

Friday, October 31, 2014

Death's Calling

My trouble, you see, is the very truth that you have haunted me every minute of my very existence. You with all your wonder, your tantalizing allure that always drew me into a spiraling madness of venomous demons whose company pleasured me. My failure to resist opening myself to you rests firmly, and solely, on my own shoulders. I am to blame for tempting you to come for me. Though I blame and hate you, you are not to blame, nor to be hated. My heart raged at the very thought of you, yet my thoughts would not release you – how I weakened at the knees mentally exploring the life we would have. Now you are here for me, I quake in fear. You are a battle I do not have the will to fight. As is our desire, you shall have me, my darling, there is no turning back. 

 The midnight hour tolls - the sound no longer music to my ear. Chiming tones reverberate around this sullen room with warning that my time draws near. I crave release from this life that chains me. I cannot be bitter at your acceptance of my invitation. You merely answered my call, as lovers do. I should not be alarmed that you are here, as you have always promised, singing to me your deadly lullaby. The melodic tone of your voice calms me, your haunting song lures me deeper into you. I close my eyes and you are all I hear, my love. The tolling chimes silenced. 

 Time slows while night draws in, but the darkness I so once craved is now a blanket of fear that wraps me within its icy arms - your arms. You see, the very essence of you resides in the darkest of the still night, waiting for my light to extinguish so that you may possess me. Silently I await for you to claim me. My body still, all I feel is you, my dear, sweet darling. 

I have wanted you for so long, to embrace your beauty. Yet now that you are here, I am sure that my very soul is in dire peril. I want to cry out, hoping someone will rescue me from your charms, but I am alone with only you. I am at your mercy and cannot quiet the rapid beating of my heart. My stubborn pride does not want you to hear how I feel. How can my greatest desire be the very thing I fear most? Your soothing voice speaks my name, a caress that touches me to my core, and I know that you are ready for me. 

 So be it, my love, take me. I am ready for you. Ready to be carried away by your chariot and dark horses to the next life. Oh, how I hope you will favor me above others and grant me amnesty from the creatures of hell and their tortuous games. I have not lived a chaste, nor wholesome life. I am broken and damaged by the ravages of this world, my body worn from time and injury. Take me now, my love. My breath hitches at the press of your lips to mine, drawing me out of the flesh-laden husk that was my home for so long - a bloody prison I pleaded out of to let this misery pass quickly. Now there is no longer anticipation. You, and only you, can grant my dying wish and free me. You want me as I want you. Your kiss is filled with a passionate desire to consume me, I cannot resist - I let go. My spirit soars into you, for you are everything, and I am now eternal dust. I am yours, my love.

Tuesday, May 1, 2012


 “Are you a gift from the gods?” he inquired.

“I like to think so, sir, but occasionally I’ve been called the devil herself.” I giggled at the face he threw at me.  Fear, disbelief, somewhere in between, either way, it was funny as hell.

“I beg you not to take my soul,” he cried.

Oh boy, there I go again, upsetting the natives.  “Get up you fool.  I’m not going to take your soul.” I paused before I mumbled, “But I might nibble your liver.” I’ve been getting better at keeping a straight face when I screw with people.  I’m sure if he looked beyond his terror, he’d see the twinkling glint in my eye that always gave me away.  

“I have liver, madam.  If that is what you wish, I’ll gladly give you all the liver in the world in exchange for my soul. I have children you see, and the missus would be lost without me. I’ll even take the neighbor’s liver for you.”

Great, another married one.  I sighed heavily, my disappointment showing.  I refused to use the married ones for my tasks.  A girl has to have some standards and I refused to be known as a home wrecker, especially if the dude up and died on me.  Some men are frailer than they let on, you know. I commend them though, choosing to take the very well-being of another’s life in their hands and guard it. Some fail miserably.  Like the fella in Sabat that whored around while his wife starved at home, penniless, and no means to even seek the basic needs of survival. His brother was much better suited to her.  So don’t ever tell me I’m always up to no good. 

“Naww, that’s alright.  I don’t want any liver right now.  But, you had better walk the path of righteousness and be a provider for your family, else I shall return and claim your soul.” I flicked my hand in the air, dismissing the poor fella. He bowed as he swiftly backed away from me, then turned and ran.  I knew I didn’t have long before the rumors started about the devil being in town. One day I was going to learn to keep my mouth shut.  Sadly, I succumbed to my only form of amusement whenever possible.  Geesh, maybe I was the devil. I shucked that thought from my brain; if I were the devil, I’d have wings for sure.  There’s no way I’d be a wingless devil. And besides, the devil is a male.

I slipped quietly out of the alleyway, trying to remember the layout of the old map. Let’s face it, I was useless when it came to direction. I always figured it out eventually, my Zen GPS would kick in and bring me where I needed to be. Besides, the fun involved in being lost was priceless.  You never know who you will meet or where you will end up.  So off we go…

Thursday, April 28, 2011

Resonance of Life

Darkness resonated from him~ called out to me. I could feel him standing across the dismal, cold room staring, malevolence emanating in waves. Don't look!~ my inner voice screamed ~ I won't! ~ I answered back. Forever bound to the icy, stone wall, unable to run, I kept my head bowed downward staring at the dirt floor of my prison. The action futile I knew, he would win. He always won, but I refused to make it easy~ even for him.

"Look at me!" He demanded. Head down, I laughed. He was grinning at my impudence, amused by my efforts to fight him. But he was counting on my defiance; it fed his soul to have control over me. Satisfied the hunger within him. He knew his inner darkness, the beast that created me, was stronger than any I could imagine.

Foot steps.. falling softly on the ground, he slowly made his way to me. My arousal amplified by his nearing proximity. Oh how much I loved him, but never let him know. But he knew, didn't he? His musky, primal scent abounded stronger the nearer he came until it surrounded me, until I could inhale his very essence. His scent always tempted me in the most intimate ways, luring me, but I always resisted. He leaned into me, his hand running softly across my bruised cheek. His touch seemed to absorb the pain of my wounds. He whispered, warm breath across my ear, "Look at me." An order issued in the most tender of ways. Lusty passion heightened within me, but still I looked away, afraid. "Look at me, my love," he again whispered to me. I could resist no longer. Slowly I raised my chin, this time without pride, without anger to see him for the first time. An action he knew would break me and put me in complete surrender to him. An action I knew would have him surrender to me. Fear!! My shackles tightened around my wrists, squeezing, shooting pain throughout my body, mind and soul. I cried out in agony. "Do not be afraid, my love. " His voice soothing, calming. "Fear only pretends to love you, pretends to protect you. He does not love you, I do. Now look at me my love, see me for what I am." He commanded again.

I began to submit to him, I looked at him. Our eyes locked, my chest heaved, breath catching. Electric shocks of excitement coursed in me. In that moment, able to see the pain and weariness in his eyes I knew there was no place I'd rather be. I wondered what he saw when he looked into mine? The same? He broke our gaze, pressing his face against my neck, his breath warming my chilled flesh. How long had I been bound here? How long had I quietly endured the pain of this captive life? Always wanting to break free to feel the sun shine down upon me, to feel the rain cleanse me, to breathe the air deep into my lungs and smile, to feel green grass under foot and laugh. But no. I endured this cold, callous prison the uncomforting touch of abrasive walls, freezing ice storms. This dreariness could all fade away, if only....

"Submit to me, my love." I closed my eyes against his voice and inhaled, habitually steeling myself to be strong, to fight, to endure. I could feel the tears behind my lids wanting their release. I had only to submit~ my eyes shot open, the salty drops fleeing captivity, running. It was time!

He pulled back, taking my face in his hands, his eyes boring into mine. Then he was there, his mouth pressed against mine, his magic engulfing me, warming me, healing me. My shackles released ~Freedom! ~I wanted to cry, but he was there, taking my words, his tongue brushing softly against my lip, finding his way in~ passion ~ passion unlike any I've known before filled me. Free! I was finally free to feel, to be. I touched him for the very first time, entranced by his beauty. "Say my name," he requested of me. I paused as fear reached for me, causing my shackles to clang against the wall behind me, a reminder. "Say it!" He commanded.

"Life!" I cried, "You are life!" A solitary tear fell from his eye, a tear for me. "Yes, I am life my love. I have been waiting for you and I'm all yours." My arms unbound and Fear behind me, I embraced him. "Promise me, my love, promise me you will never let me go again," he asked, wrapping his loving arms around me. "I promise."

Saturday, October 16, 2010

Reflections of Beauty

I stand in front of a square of mirror each morning carefully applying the paint of an urban female warrior. This is what I do, this is what I am trained for. Each brush is skillfully used to embellish every facial feature to perfection. Swirling colors to blend so you cannot tell where one stops and one begins. My face a daily canvas to be remade to reflect sexy, charming, in control.

Golden strands of hair fall around my face in soft flowing waves. All in place designed to be stared at; to be touched.

Matching clothing flattering just the right curves of the body.. coordinated handbag and shoes with not a speck of dirt on them. Which sunglasses to wear, to tie a pretty bow on the package?

A quick look in the mirror to ensure all is right. Pretty girl staring back with empty eyes. I look away for fear of confronting the truth.

Inside a slow scream starts to form.. pushing it’s way up, wanting to be set free. Push it back down, it cannot escape, there is no time for dwelling on what should be.

Echos haunt my mind, “you’re such a pretty girl” ; “how can you be sad, you’re so pretty”; “you have it made, you're so pretty”; “we like being around you, YOU’RE SO…. PRETTY”

SHUT UP!! I cannot talk to you now, I have beauty to throw around, tell your lines to somebody else. They mean nothing to me.

Look into my lifeless eyes and tell me how pretty I am once you really see me. Tell me how pretty I am now that you know the truth, now that you see reflections of beauty in me.

Thursday, September 30, 2010

Star Dust

She was once the patient one, always willing to wait. The one who always understood being left behind. She was once brave, standing in the face of fear and shouting in it's face to end it's injustices against those who cannot defend themselves. The one who can hide the hurt bestowed upon her in the most secret places, no one can find. Falsified, personified by appearances, she was the pretty one, an easy guise to feign. To all who knew her, she was a rock, seeming to stand solid and strong, while inside she crumbled as easily as a thin layer of shale. She would hand out smiles she could barely muster, hiding tears that wanted to fall.

In the dark of night alone, wondering what it's all for, she is weak. She knows she has failed herself, has lost her potential to be someone, because she chose to always help someone else. Now she is alone and scared. She is tired, age slowly stealing her youth, wasted energy sapped away by the selfish ones. A willing sacrifice, her light slowly fades like the setting sun. She has no one to blame but herself, for allowing to be set aside like a little doll , to be abused, to be unknown. As she was in death, she smiled as she surrendered to the end, the darkness come to engulf her soul.

A shining star, dimmed by the world, to dust she does return.