Tag Archive | dreams

More (A Poem/Short Story)

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She kept the bouquets
Given in bloom
Before reverence was a ghost
Rancid lilies
On the bedside table
Patronizing her
With their shelf-life devotion

“Never again will I love,” she proclaimed
“Never again will I give,” she explained
“Never again will I chase the chaser”
“Stroke the ego”
“Be led by reins made from frays of detachment”

She told herself
Life was brilliant, easier
When she kept her heart guarded
Though at the point of sale
She didn’t buy
What she was pushing

Yet she existed without living
Thought without reasoning
Reached for tomorrow
Inside ancient history
Plagued by its confines
As the floor met the ceiling
And the walls closed in

She took to sand and sea
Cloud gazing in the dunes
Spongy beds beneath her spine
Bursts of freckles just a sun-kiss away
As she finally came to

Her fractured fairytale
Still pierced her mind
But its jabs were brief
And its frequency was fading

Oh, but she was slow
To usher in…him
A knight without the armor 
Bold and uninvited
Extracting her from that comfy corner
Of complacency

She took his attention
With a side of suspicion
Despite emotions upending
Without permission
Blending then curving
In all directions

Ah, but it felt too good

Too rare
Too risky
Too scary
Too much
Too fast
Too soon

She charted an escape
A path to resistance
Right there for the taking

She clung to it
Bathed in it
Slept in it
Woke to it
Gorged herself on it
And wore it
Like a second skin

But damn
If he wasn’t persistent
And beautiful
And so easy to adore

But surely
Her surrender
To that exquisite ache
Adhering to her frantic pulse
Was merely a prelude
To a greater pain to come?

No
Yes

Predictions were tangled
And often convoluted
So she took a leap of fate
For this joy was worth
Every maybe

When he showed her the stars
She was infinite
When he opened his arms
She fell home
When he pulled her close
Her body remembered
What she told it to forget
Its artful formation
Both courageous and kind

When he held out his heart
She slipped it on for size
Its perfect fit
Impossible to ignore

And when she let out her crazy
He took out his scars
And when she let down her hair
He caught all her fears
And when he kept coming back
She stopped asking why
And when he loved her
She loved him more

 

Copyright © S. A. Healey

 

Image source: pixabay.com

 

 

Release Deets, A New Giveaway, & Something To Think About

FacebookBannerFillMeIn

I’m sitting in Starbucks, where lately I’ve been spending inordinate amounts of time fueling up on assorted coffee concoctions while simultaneously reaping the benefits of free wifi, electrical outlet privileges, and eclectic people-watching.

Leaving the quiet (albeit messy) solitude of my home office to write in a bustling public establishment wasn’t something I’d ever considered doing until a fellow writer friend suggested it as a way to shake things up and combat writers block.

And, guess what? It worked like a charm! Yippee!

But before I pickup the pace with my latest WIP (work in progress), there are some things I’d like to share with you, starting with…

A Book Release Announcement!

I am SOOOOO excited to relay the news that my second novel, FILL ME IN (The Liquid Series Book 2), will be available at all major eBook retailers–including Amazon, Apple iBooks, and Barnes & Noble–beginning Thursday, May 25, 2017! Yikes, that’s in less than a month!

CLICK HERE TO WATCH THE BOOK TRAILER

Is it acceptable to confess that I’m also nervous? Maybe even scared out of my wits? Okay, good. 🙂

So, in honor of all the nail biting I’ll be doing over the next four weeks, Empty Me Out (The Liquid Series Book 1) is currently on sale for just 0.99 cents at U.S. eBook retailers (including Amazon, iBooks, Barnes & Noble, etc.), so if you haven’t had a chance to grab a copy, this is an opportunity to get it at a significant discount before it reverts to its regular price upon Fill Me In’s release on May 25.

And, moving right along…

I’ve got another newsletter subscriber GIVEAWAY to tell you about!

This time, I will award TWO WINNERS the following:

1.) An eBook copy of my contemporary romance novella, The High Road (not available in stores)

AND

2.) A $25.00 gift card to Amazon or iTunes/iBooks (your choice)

If you’re not a newsletter subscriber and would like to sign up to get in on this giveaway, you can do so below:

SIGN UP FOR BOOKISH BUZZ

Good luck!

Oh, and something to think about…

Last week I received an email from a lovely reader who shared her regret over giving up her dream of becoming a novelist. I was saddened by her belief that it was too late to chase her passions and incorporate them into her life. Over the course of several exchanged emails, I hoped to make some headway in convincing her otherwise.

Speaking from experience, I can tell you that it’s never too late. Despite dreaming of becoming a professional writer pretty much my entire life, it wasn’t until I found myself in the thick of middle age that I finally uncovered the wherewithal to do something about it.

Has it been easy? Hell to the no.

Have I contemplated throwing in the towel? Yup. More often than I care to admit.

But I stuck it out, and I am so glad I did.

If you have a dream that you’ve put on the back burner, now is the perfect time to bring it front and center.

I truly believe that dreams can alter destinies. So, I hope you keep dreaming, and I wish you every success and happiness.

With warmth and gratitude,

Sue

 

Copyright © S. A. Healey

 

 

A New Year For Keeping Promises

promises

We’ve all got history.

Some we honor with nostalgic fondness. Some we barely remember. Some we only fess up to after liberal helpings of liquid encouragement plunge us into bouts of facepalm retrospect, leaving us with that one gnawing question…

What the eff was I thinking?

And then, of course, some history…

We wish like hell we could forget.

But each experience teaches us something fundamentally important, no matter how far or well we’ve traveled within the circle of life.

Even as I nudge my way through the upper echelon of middle age, life continues to teach me, sometimes in jarring ways, that it is full of change. And, often…

Of endings.

Yet, I also take comfort in having learned long ago that some things are forever, like the certainty that I will always love my family, my children, and my soulmate.

And that I will always hold precious…

My dreams.

After all, passions provide purpose, and they are omnipresent…

In all of us.

Every January, we tend to embark on quests for self-betterment, reuniting our dreams with the due diligence that abandoned them sometime around mid-February the previous year.

We ache to be reborn. We pitch Stuart Smalley-esque affirmations to our expectant reflections. We make promises. And then, gradually…

We break them.

Why?

Because the vows we make to ourselves are the hardest to keep.

I can personally vouch for this.

Anyone who has followed this blog for any length of time could probably guess that my dreams heavily revolve around writing, books, writing, romance, writing, and…

Did I mention writing?

So call me Captain Obvious, but I love to write! LOVE. IT. Always have, always will.

However, when I bid adieu to 2016 with champagne flute in-hand, I couldn’t help but be reminded of the writerly promises I’d made to myself that went unfulfilled—namely, the stories in my head that were supposed to end up in print, but didn’t.

Sure, I could blame everything from chronic PMS to those cat-versus-cucumber YouTube compilations that are oh-so-addictive, but the truth?

I allowed my aspirations to fall out of focus.

If you’re a word nerd like me, you know that life as a writer can be incredibly isolating. Keeping the dream alive requires persistence and sacrifice, which can pose a challenge for those of us who suffer the guilt of said sacrifice, conditioning us to then give precedence to everything else.

We assign our dreams “hobby” or “back burner” status, a confusing contradiction since we don’t actually think of them in these terms.

But sometimes, that’s all it takes to bring our active pursuits to a grinding halt. We may even try convincing ourselves that none of it really matters, especially when there are so many other things that require our time and attention.

But deep down, we know better.

My love affair with the written word began as an adolescent. I discovered the freedom and catharsis of gliding ink across paper, an exercise inspired by one of my idols at the time, author Judy Blume.

Back then, I was struggling to find myself and where I might fit in the world—a literal work in progress. But despite not yet knowing who or where I wanted to be, as long as I had words, I was moving.

And that was good enough for me.

Whenever I reminisce on that time, I not only fall in love with writing all over again, but I realize…

I am still a work in progress.

So this year, whether I finish writing one book, six, or even zilch, the part of me that thrives on stringing words and chasing stories will always be there, even when life throws curveballs that try to tell me otherwise.

I don’t know about you, but I feel a responsibility to keep those promises I left hanging in 2016.

So, with that, I raise my pen…

And feel a novel coming on. 😉

 

Copyright © S. A. Healey

 

Image source: pexels.com – Ed Gregory, photographer

 

For Me

soulmates

Write me
In bold-stroked Sharpie fashion
Cradle me
Like you do your leather-bound literature
Feed me
Your compliments judiciously
Bring me
Faith in longevity
Give me
As good as you get
Play me
From lullaby to lyrical bite
Make me
A song that will save your life
Render me
Willingly defenseless
Feel me
With every fiber of your middle age
Watch me
Teeter with my heart on the line
Know me
Beyond the smoke and mirrors
Accept me
For my tongue-stammer authenticity
Tell me
Soulmates don’t switch like the weather
Show me
It’s not all lip service
Brand me
‘Til separation would be as painful as a burn
Love me
Because I am yours and yours alone

 

Copyright © S. A. Healey

 

Image source: flickr.com – Sam Hood, photographer
 

Recollection

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I recall
The pain
Fluid
In its persistence
Stalking
My mobility
Diluting
My vitality
A humid shadow
Of looming
Consuming
Endurance
Oozing under footfalls
Permeating soles
Slogging north
‘Til all I could taste
Was grit
And disillusion
 
I recall 
The tears
Kept at bay
Out of sheer
Determination
To denounce
My cantankerous
Unravelling
Upholding
Proper posture
Beneath
The burden
Of knowing
Full
Wasn’t as heavy
As empty
 
I recall
Wondering
When my thoughts
Would suspend
Their cyclonic fumbling
Edging for something
Just out of reach
Rapt by
Their own dominion
Garbled notes
Echoing cruelly
Between my ears
Holding me
Hostage
Against the breath
Of their merciless wind
 
I recall
When the world
Finally stopped
Spinning
And I sank
To my knees
In grateful praise
Of greener pastures
Spread invitingly
Before my pleading eyes
Wheatgrass
Seductive
In its ebb and flow
Calling to me
Like slender fingers
Beckoning
And for the first time
In forever
I actually felt
Like dancing
 
I recall
My feet
Moving
Of their own accord
Surging me
Toward a goal
I never thought existed
That void
Filling in
And brimming over
Its face
Emerging
In shades
Of solace
The sun caught
In its lashes
A heart cupped
In its ample hands
 
I recall
How a single
Full-bodied smile
Erased a lifetime
Of hurt
My own
Reciprocal grin
A showcase
In creases
Of many lives lived
Etching vulnerable
Patterns
Across my skin
Charting dreams
And insecurities
Wants
And bare necessities
Unfathomable
That I could feel
Such joy
But still lay naked
My fears
 
I recall
Finding
A place to belong
Inside your soul
Somewhere to be
Unapologetically me
Where feeling
Didn’t make
Me weak
A space
That not only
Completed 
But wholed me
A home
In which to cultivate
Tomorrow
A gift of time
To open
With burgeoning hope
That something
So precious
Could last forever
 
I recall 
That the greatest
Love
I’ve known
Or ever will know
Still exists
Inside of me
Homage
To the rhythm
Of the music
We made
Its percussion
Ever present
Within my veins
Building to
Domeless crescendos
Their purpose
To expand 
Evolve
And to carry me on
 
I recall…
 
And I will never
Let you go

 

Copyright © S. A. Healey

 

Image source: pexels.com – Kayla Corpron, photographer