Inspiration strikes…

I began writing this morning, and ended up with four small snippets of poetry. I think of them as “snippets” because they often get reworked into longer poems. Or, sometimes they work best as little snippets, and are left as such. Here, I will share one with you now:

I lie in state, adorned with black dahlias and burgundy roses. Whispers of sorrow and regret fill the air. The room smells of flowers with just a slight hint of decay. Save your tears; this is the happiest I’ve ever been.

©2024 by Twisted Libra

Like I said, this is just a start. I plan to go back to this one and add more. This is how many of my longer poems begin. I have an idea, I jot down a few lines, and later I go back with a fresh view and write until I feel it is complete. I’m the queen of revision, but sometimes I drive myself mad attempting to reach a level of perfection that possibly doesn’t exist. A good friend told me once, “Just take a deep breath and let the damn thing go.” She was right. An artist is never truly satisfied.

I am also tempted to publish another collection of dark poetry. I love to create poetry; far more than writing short stories, if I’m honest. We’ll see. I am always creating, so who knows where it will take me? Until then, feel free to check out my previous works:

Twisted Libra Books

I don’t really have much to say today, so I won’t keep you. If you haven’t already, here is the link to subscribe to this blog:

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Until next time…

Winds of change…

Guess who’s back, my lovelies! Your one and only Twisted Libra has finally returned to the cemetery! I apologize for the extended absence. I moved to a new state, and that takes a lot out of a living dead girl. It has been nonstop sensory overload these past few weeks, but I finally feel like I am settled in and can return to the delicious creation of the macabre!

So, you may be asking yourself, “Has she written anything new?” Alright, you probably aren’t clamoring to know that. Let’s be honest, you probably already stopped reading at this point. Oh well, I can just talk to myself. The answer is, no. Not yet. But as of today, I am back on that horse with a vengeance. I was writing new poetry right up until the move, and the last two weeks or so have been a whirlwind. All good things, but still, not exactly conducive to inspiration. I have two solid book ideas waiting in the wings, but I don’t feel ready to tackle that just yet. I have written four books; three in a series of short stories and one dark poetry collection. I have yet to attempt a full length novel with just one story. I’ll get to it someday, just not now.

My goal in the coming weeks is to finally get out to some of the old cemeteries here in Virginia. I crave new photos and spooky scenes! I visited quite a few locations down in North Carolina. A few of them will absolutely be missed, but many of them were just so-so. I feel like Virginia cemeteries may hold a much deeper history for me to explore. I’m excited! I look forward to updating my gallery soon!

That’s all I have for now, my lovelies. I will be writing this weekend, so I’ll be back soon with something delightfully wicked for you all to devour! Thanks for stopping by the cemetery today! You are always welcome here! And now for the shameless plugs:

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Until next time…

A funny thing happened on the way to Virginia…

I can’t explain why or how, but I feel like this move has awakened something in me. I am inspired like never before. I am writing almost daily. I am reading as often as I can. I feel like my connection to the spooky is stronger than ever. What is this sorcery? I finally found the cure for writer’s block: just move.

I know what you’re thinking, and no; I’m not doing that. This isn’t one of those “fresh start, new beginnings, blah-blah-blah” posts. I’m not exactly known for my uplifting, bright-side content, am I? Honestly, I am just amazed at how much I feel the true Twisted Libra resurfacing after such a long period of struggle and elusiveness. In celebration of my triumphant return, here is a little something I scribbled out earlier this morning:

(And no, it isn’t about me and Libra Hubs. I take inspiration from many places.)

Hollow words fill my ears.

It seems you’re looking through me.

I hang my head in sadness,

Wondering if you ever really knew me?

Am I just your shiny plaything,

On which your ego feeds?

What will become of me, of us,

When I no longer suit your needs?

Hanging on your every word.

Craving your attention.

Living just to see you smile,

My own needs, rarely mentioned.

I know I should be stronger.

This pain should not defeat me.

Yet every day, I fall back in, asking,

If I keep you happy, will you keep me?  

©2024 by Twisted Libra

Poetry really is my absolute favorite creation. The more I dig back through old journals and such, the more I realize I was constantly writing poetry through the years. Stories are fun, photography is fun, but damn, there’s just something about poetry that makes me feel alive! (Undead?) Dark poetry is my jam, y’all.

If you haven’t noticed already (and judging by the sales numbers, you haven’t), I published a dark poetry book back in December! You can find it, along with my Tales from the Twisted Libra Cemetery trilogy, by following this link: Twisted Libra books

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That’s all I have for now, my lovelies. Enjoy your weekend! I’ll be back soon with more wickedly delightful musings. Until next time…

Bear with me…

I just can’t help myself. I want to share more from my old journal with you all. I hope you’re not bored with me already. This is fun for me. Besides, I am in the midst of relocation and my brain doesn’t have any truly profound musings to share, other than the fact that moving makes me want to burn all my shit and adopt minimalism.

Let’s kick things off with yet another sad, depressing poem from my younger self. This one has elements in it that found their way into my Tales from the Twisted Libra Cemetery series. I love seeing the progression of my work! Brace yourselves; here comes the melancholy:

Watch me as I fall apart.

Spread my ashes everywhere.

Bruised and broken is my heart,

For no one really seems to care.

I’ve succumbed to loneliness,

And bitter revelations.

I’ve given in to darkness,

And its power of persuasion.

My soul is dark and empty.

Inside, I am frozen.

No one here can save me,

From the path that I have chosen.

Demons dance inside my mind.

My eyes are dark and hollow.

The devils seems to call to me.

Where they lead, I will follow.

Turned upon; cast aside.

Discarded like the rose’s thorn.

Manipulated and abused.

Wishing I was never born.

I can’t turn back; I’m lost forever,

Abandoned in this hell alone.

Darkness has me in its grasp.

My soul is no longer mine to own.

© Twisted Libra

I’m glad she healed. Goddamn, Teenage Libra had so much damage. Don’t get me wrong; I still wrestle with some demons, but this girl was vastly overcome by them. As I am sharing these poems, I am recalling the pain and helplessness she felt. These are emotions I haven’t felt in quite some time. I just want to reach back through the years and hug her. She’d no doubt punch me and tell me to fuck off, but I’d hug her just the same. Damn. Okay, let’s move on to the next one. It’s more hopeful. Enjoy:

Fade in. Fade out.

Does anybody see me?

I stare at my reflection.

Can this person really be me?

Once upon a time, I knew,

Just where I was heading.

Now, it seems I’m led astray,

By things that I’m regretting.

Somewhere deep inside of me,

There lives a total stranger.

She’s not brought down by the pain,

Or tortured by the anger.

She handles her life day by day,

And always keeps her head.

She doesn’t feel her heart is cold,

Or her soul inside is dead.

I wish one day to be like her,

And live this life with ease,

For the way I’m living now,

Has brought me to my knees.

Will we two strangers ever meet?

Is it written in our fate?

Breathe in. Breathe out. I need her now.

Before it gets too late.

© Twisted Libra

I was unknowingly writing this to my future self. To Twisted Libra. I thought I was just writing to some fictional version of me that would never exist. That I hoped to be, but never thought I would be. This is kind of heavy, looking back now and knowing how I turned out. Now I am the girl who keeps her head, who handles her life, who let go of all those feelings of worthlessness and torment long ago. Reading this poem made me breathe a deep sigh of relieved accomplishment. This entire journal feels like a time capsule. I’m getting reacquainted with my former self, and so far it has been a positive experience!

Thank you for once again taking this journey with me down the old lane of memories! I have a few more items to share with you soon, so stay tuned! Here are the obligatory links, so please consider reading my books and/or subscribing to this blog (if you haven’t already). Thanks in advance!

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Until next time…

Hop into the way-back machine…

Happy Friday, my lovelies! I thought I would jump right in and share some more delicious memories from my old journal! Let’s keep things light today, shall we? No talk of the dreaded traumatic past. Just good old fashioned teen angst! First up: a poem about deep emotional desire (or as deep as I could get at that age).

My perception is hazy. My soul has been shattered.

You’re etched in my memory, now. Nothing else matters.

I escape into the ghost of you. I feel you surround me.

My eyes are shut tightly, and there’s no one around me.

I fall into emptiness; the world fades away.

I have no more feelings. There’s nothing to say.

Nothing but silence exists in my mind,

And the memory of happiness you left behind.

As I fall further, I wonder, where are you tonight?

Will I see you again? Will you make things alright?

As I wake, I’m alone. You are but a dream.

Just a ghost; an image. Or so it may seem.

You haunt my heart, and exhaust my mind so.

I try, but I just can’t seem to let go.

 © Twisted Libra

I must have been a hoot at parties. I love reading these old poems and seeing how far I have come as a writer, and also what elements of my writing have remained over the years. Now, this next one is a little more fun:

Life goes on all around me. I close my eyes and fall away.

People look at me and wonder, but they never know quite what to say.

They know me not, and I never tell. I keep them guessing all the while.

They point, and laugh, and whisper on. I just sit and flash a smile.

I don’t owe this world a thing. I am more than what you see.

You may have met some freaks before, but you’ve never known anyone quite like me.

I’ll make you think. I’ll make you curious. I’ll leave you desperately wanting more.

You’ll try to solve my mystery, like so many have before.

But in the end, you’ll shake your head, and assume that there’s no use to try.

You’ll write me off as strange or weird, but that’s okay. I’ll still get by.

Try as you might, you can’t forget me. I’ll haunt your dreams and fantasies.

You may have met a lot of people, but you’ve never met anyone quite like me.

© Twisted Libra

Awww! Coquettish Libra! Such a fun little poem, written by a girl who knew jack shit about life. Innocence is truly fleeting. As I read through my teenage scribbles, I recall how limited my world view was back then. It’s somewhat amusing, but I also find it endearing. Things I wrote about, feelings so dark; sadly, life would spend the next several years showing me how much darker it could get. Still, I can’t say I regret any of it. Do I wish some things could have played out differently? Of course. I just refuse to live in regret of what actually transpired, because good or bad, it shaped me in so many ways. Besides, I used to regret a lot of things. I wasted too many years wishing I could alter the past. Now I see that, like it or not, my past got me here and I absolutely love my life now. I wouldn’t change it for anything.

Wow. Look at me, getting fucking emotional. Gah! We can’t have that. I must remain wicked and dark. But I do thank you for being here, and for playing around in the way-back machine with me. More to come over the weekend, so stay tuned! Now, pardon me, but I do have books to advertise. Find them here:

Twisted Libra books

Also, if you haven’t already, please consider subscribing to this lovely blog! I promise to entertain you, and everyone needs a little Libra in their life!

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Enjoy your weekend, my lovelies! I will be back soon!

Until next time…

Memory lane…

In the midst of packing for the move, I was reacquainted with my old journal. I say this is where it all began, but honestly I was writing stories and poems on any scrap of paper I could find since I was old enough to write. I have a collection of old fliers, torn envelopes, and even a fast food bag with poetry scribbled on any clear surface. This journal is the first time I attempted to build a collection of it all.

I thought it would be fun to share some of my older, teen-angsty work. Don’t judge; we all start somewhere. I have never titled my poems. Not really sure why. Anyway, here is one that isn’t too embarrassing:

I lie awake at night,

As the memories dance through my mind.

All the feelings I once had,

Are now in a place that I can’t find.

I thought I had a grip on things,

But reality brought me to my knees.

I soon found out all bets were off.

Life is a gamble with no guarantees.

Everything around me has fallen.

All my walls came tumbling down.

I stand alone now, weak and fragile.

In a sea of emotions, I begin to drown.

I feel as if I’m dead inside.

My heart has nothing left to give.

If I have no soul to share,

How much longer shall I live? 

©Twisted Libra

Wow. I was so broken at such a young age. I haven’t the slightest idea when this was written, but best guess is sometime between the ages of 13 and 17. The imagery here was quite dramatic, what with the drowning and the loss of a soul, but I respect what Teenage Libra was trying to express. I remember these days. Navigating my depression and traumatic past is not as difficult now. I’m an adult who has learned a few coping skills. The girl who wrote this had zero coping skills, and was living through the trauma. I won’t judge her. Without her, there would be no Twisted Libra. Now, this next one is a bit lighter. It proves I have always been a cemetery girl:

Cold air. Cold graves. Somehow, I fit in here. The smell of death in the air is strangely calming. All the souls locked inside this cemetery, their voices forever silenced. But I can hear them. They are wives. Husbands. Children. Parents. They have names and ages. And they each have a story to tell. You just have to listen. Maybe they do rise at night, and walk the earth in search of a kindred spirit. Some of the stones are toppled over and broken. I imagine those souls escaped. I want to escape, too. I feel at home in the cemetery. I belong here. This place gives me peace. It’s full of lost souls. Forgotten souls. Souls with so much to say, but no voice. Maybe that’s why I feel at home here. Maybe that’s why I belong. Lost. Forgotten. Silenced. I am one of them now. One of the dead.

©Twisted Libra

I remember writing this one. I was 12. I used to hide out in an older cemetery down the block from where I lived. That place was my comfort in comparison to my homelife. I would sit there for hours, just writing and breathing in the silence. No one could hurt me while I was there. I have a few pictures of this place:

I carried so much pain back then. Reading through this journal last night, I realized how far I’ve come. Like I said, without this tormented little girl, there would be no Twisted Libra. She crawled so I could walk. I owe everything to her. She suffered through so much, and did so alone. No one really knew until years later, and some still don’t know. I am okay, though. I am still here.

I think that’s enough for today. I might share more from the journal another day. Thanks for going down memory lane with me. This was fun! Now for the obligatory links:

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Until next time…

Thank you, Carl Jung…

Raise your hand if you have ever felt like you just weren’t good enough.

Okay, well I am sure that’s most of us. It’s normal to sometimes feel like you don’t measure up. My problem is, I walk around feeling this way constantly. Carl Jung said, “Wherever an inferiority complex exists, there is a good reason.” What reason could my brain possibly have to make me feel like shit all the time? Make it make sense. I write poems and short stories, and sometimes they involve strong female characters who command attention. In real life, if someone pays me a compliment, I immediately think they are just being super polite out of pity. When other people talk about books they’ve read or places they’ve been, I feel like a ignorant little bumpkin. Everyone seems so much smarter than me, so much more grounded. I often feel like the collective world looks at me, pats me on the head and thinks, “Awww, that’s too bad.”

I could go on, but nobody enjoys a pity party. Besides, I feel like some sort of gothic cliché. “Clinically depressed with daddy issues” isn’t exactly a rare category. You know what? I’m just going to shut up. I’m making myself feel even worse about being me. At least the pain serves as a great muse. It’s given me some of my best poems over the years. I suppose I should proofread and hit publish before I freak out and delete this entire entry. I can understand why people fake their lives online. It’s hell being vulnerable, especially on a public platform. It would be much easier to just pretend I am confident and happy. People don’t like messy. Depression is messy. Inferiority is messy. I definitely put the “me” is messy.

If you feel the same as I do, at least you know you’re not alone. If you’re well adjusted, please send advice. I’m just going to keep telling myself, “It’s okay. You belong here, too.” Maybe I will actually believe it someday.

Until next time…

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A little something new…

Rain down upon me

With your venomous words

Until I am drowning in the depth of your disdain.

Then lift me from the waters

With your thorn-coated embrace

Claim yourself a savior, while your torment, I sustain.

 ©2024 by Twisted Libra

Until next time…

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New burial grounds…

         “She has heard a whisper say,

A curse is on her if she stay.”

           – Alfred Lord Tennyson

Welcome back, my lovelies! I’m afraid I have been gone far too long from this blog. My apologies. I told you all in a previous post that I was relocating the cemetery, and lately that has consumed a great deal of my time. So much, in fact, that I have done fuck all to promote my latest book. It debuted on December 25th and I have put zero effort into telling people about it since. Why am I like this?

While I refuse to partake in that “new year, new me” shit, I do solemnly swear to try and be a more consistent blogger. I want to keep all (3) of you entertained. (These days, I doubt even 3 people read this blog. Talkin’ to yourself, here, Libra.) Over the next few weeks, I am sure I will have lots to share. It’s just that moving sucks, even when you are excited about it. Please bear with me while I exhume, transport, and rebury all that is Twisted Libra.

Until I can be fully present around here, please accept this snippet from Lollipop Daggers as my mea culpa:

The sky burns crimson as the daytime dies,
And the night comes out to play.
The world becomes painted in secrets and shadows,
While the wicked give chase to their prey.

Air that carries the faint stench of rot,
Moves a blanket of fog through the city.
Darkness and demons are now in control,
Are you still in the streets? What a pity.

©2023 by Twisted Libra

Here are the obligatory self-promotion links:

Twisted Libra at Barnes & Noble Twisted Libra on Amazon

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Until next time…

Lollipop Daggers cover reveal!!!

I am so fucking ecstatic right now! My latest creation, Lollipop Daggers, will be available for purchase on December 25! The Kindle version is currently available for pre-order! This is my first collection of dark poetry, so I truly hope you enjoy it! Want to see the cover? Wait no longer, my lovelies! Here it is!

Now, although I am offering a digital version this time, be aware that the fonts and spacing will differ from the print version! While this does not affect the overall presentation of the work, it still gives the eBook a less polished look than the paperback. I am happy no matter which option you choose (or if you choose not to read it at all, that’s fine too), but I want full transparency. The paperback version will be superior. We can thank Amazon for that.

Here is the link to find all my dark creations on Amazon:

(Note: As of this blog post, the pre-order lists December 30 as the release date. That is wrong, and I will get that adjusted asap. The book comes out December 25.)

Twisted Libra author page

Subscribe to this blog for updates on the book, as well as more of my wickedly delightful creations! You can also find me on most social media platforms!

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That’s all I have for now! Stay tuned! Over the next week, I will be offering snippets of the book and other juicy nibbles! Until next time…