I Believed She’d Always Be

I Believed She’d Always Be

youthfully drowsy, I believed she’d always be

but I felt it, the fragility, the fatigue

the trauma racking mentally, frequently

allowed for it to creep silently, to fester

to make her air thick and her words slick

still, I couldn’t fathom such a stealthy killer

such an intimate thriller for the soul to behold

even behind the scenes, the illusions eased

until the rooms grew dimmer, and they withered

right before my untrusting, denying eyes,

until I was exposed, the smallest one out

stumbling in the dark, no merciful moon

to temper the shock so soon

– B. Brown

This is a poem from my first book, Amnesia. It was a struggle to write the first part because I tore into a lot of dark spaces in my mind. I had to explore and confront that year that poses as only yesterday, when my world distorted and contorted into something unrecognizable. I managed to survive it, though, and come out stronger. But even today, I still wonder how different my life would be if it wasn’t for that plot twist.

(fantasy art: The Drowning Eyes by Cynthia Sheppard)

Showing and Telling

There is a difference between telling a story and showing a story.

The wife left the house in anger.

She glared at him, before snatching the ring off and throwing it at his feet. The windows shook as she slammed the door behind her.

Neither is better than the other although most creative writers aim to show what’s happening, to paint a picture that provokes interest. There are times, though, where it is best to tell. Maybe to avoid extra fluff or maybe to simply report something. It depends on your intention; it’s all up to your discretion. Just be mindful about what would be the best way to mediate your concept.

– B. Brown

(art: Woman writing, 1934 by Pablo Picasso)