Over time words break open sealed minds; speak them in rhymes with no mistakes for there is no button for a rewind. My consciousness is the shoe strings of guilt and pleasure tying together each shoe tripping me up with every step I take in existence. I lived as a child with many restrictions. I tried to cook my dreams in a kitchen as a masterpiece, but with so much on my plate my dreams didn’t look so delicious.
Shakkan, speak softly, but never treasure the heart of a young woman to replace yours that was lost; because what is lost is never forever gone. Last night I spoke in song, fiddle with the vibrations, wrote musical notes in letters, wrote notes as reminders for later. Later never came because later is now; as tomorrow is now and yesterday is forever present. So last night was not last night, the sun is always up, but just because I couldn’t see it didn’t mean my night was a dark sky with stars and moon light.
It’s making my heart weep you can’t see this, but I have been counting stars in constellations, contemplating on past conversations, reminiscing on our most intimate moments in compilations. I am filled with bliss and this is why I have to take a sip. Sip to each beat because each beat sparks a new discovery in me; I speak these words and let them drip off my lips. I am so unique and I am pleased to be me, while you was not so happy to exist.
We were teens speaking lines from movie scripts to each; to each other with belief it was meant to be. Meant to be? I was just going by what I thought was the key, but it was all a false game we played in the end. Victim to each; each our own way we slept and prayed our pain away. We drank and ate our time away. We sat and cheated our minds away. This pain we can’t escape. So young we didn’t know how to embrace; embrace was not in our common knowledge.
So all we did was run and chase, moved on with haste while the other waits and other gave their heart away. Three years later I speak in grace, smoke my weed and dance in hallways to music that opens my mind’s gate. It was then my spiritual journey made me wake to brighter days through the gloomiest ways. I speak my truth, but never the general because it was too late for us to speak together in unison like the water in the lake.
Left you be I did, let you live in harmony I said, let time do it’s part, I no longer dread. From a broken heart to waking from the dead. The knowledge of self has done me well, and I was feed at the foodshed in Miami. Lone on the beach with the waves breaching the sand under my feet; with waves of heat on my body and mellow beats playing in my ears vibrating my emotional body.
Lonely, but not when you hold me, cold, but not when the sun is showing.
“My mom doesn’t believe in love. I think she stopped after my dad painted her soft skin with the harsh colors of blue and purple one too many times. Or maybe it was after the nights he came home smelling of cheap perfume she’d never wear. Or no, I bet she stopped when he picked their son as the canvas for his unwarranted anger. Growing up, she’d tell me that she’d pray God would make her heart like stone, like the rocks that the sea beats against over and over; she craved their inability to feel. She claims her prayers were answered, but sometimes, when she sees old couples walking hand in hand still very much in love, she turns to me with a sad smile and reveals that she always thought that’d be her and him and I have to look away. That smile, it’s her achilles heel; it tells of her shattered dreams and whispers softly of her broken heart.
My mom doesn’t believe in love. As soon as I could understand the concept she drilled it into my head that there was no such thing. She thought it was a waste of time, sneered at those who tried to say it was one of the things worth living for. Unnecessary, dangerous was how she described it. She said she’d be damned if I fell into its trap and ruined my life for a boy that would leave me broken.
Now I don’t know how to tell her that I feel the things she warned against. I dont know how to tell her that my heart jumps when I look into his eyes or press my lips to his. I don’t know how to tell her that I fell for a boy with plain brown eyes and a smile that reminds me of the sun. I don’t know how to tell her that I gave him my heart and now he has the power to ruin me.
The tone in writing is one of the most important characteristics of a piece of writing. Books, poetry, songs, articles, any writing whatsoever; the tone is everything. That being said, there are a lot of ways in which writers can either mess it up or completely forget to set the tone. Below is a guide to setting the tone to come across exactly how you want it to.
Some Things To Note
Tone is the character or attitude of a text that invokes emotion in the reader
There are two things you want to ask yourself when reading a text and studying the tone:
How does the text make you feel?
How is the text designed to make you feel?
Things That Create Tone
There are several different elements in writing that create the tone. Here are a few:
How your characters act, interact, and speak all play a large role in how your readers perceive your story. If your characters are speaking cryptically, fidgeting, and the tensions are high, your readers will feel the suspense.
Volume (Dialogue Tags)
How loud people say things is a big indicator of how they mean for it to come across to whomever they’re talking to. It’s the same this with dialogue. While it’s important not to overdo it with the dialogue tags, you must also use them to your advantage. It’s kind of when you’re writing a script and you sometimes feel the need to add a note for the actor to say something a certain way in order for them to portray what you envision. Use specific dialogue tags sparingly, but use them well.
The context of the situation is everything. If your reader doesn’t know what’s going on and your main character is super relaxed all of a sudden when they thought they were in the middle of a very stressful situation, it’s going to give them very weird vibes. Knowing where the character is, how they feel, and having some idea of what’s about to go down is imperative to creating the right tone.
Word choice is the main way you can set the tone in your story. You must be clear, intentional, natural, and consistent with the way you choose how you phrase things in your story. We all have certain associations with specific words and using those associations will bode well for you.
Clear Word Choice…
Be clear before anything else when setting the tone. Portray what you need to in order to create the scene itself and put the reader in the story. Then change what words you’re using in order to make the reader feel a certain way. However, never sacrifice clarity in exchange for the use of a fancy word. If your read doesn’t know what you’re saying, what good does it do anyway?
Intentional Word Choice…
Be intentional when you’re deciding where to switch out words and where you decide to really hit the reader with a huge wave of tone.Don’t just fling words anywhere there’s a gap in the hopes that it will accomplish the same thing as intentionally injecting words where it will pierce the reader’s soul. See what I mean?
Natural Word Choice
While it’s important to choose words that fit the tone, they must flow naturally with the dialogue and descriptions. Don’t just slap your reader in the face with “OMG Becky did you hear what that brat Jessica said about you and your bae? She’s such a vacuous shrew!” because that’s not exactly natural is it?