Metaphors for mortality are so prominent. They evolve and shape our understanding or discomfort with death by forming some control over what we cannot control (Sexton, James. October 2010). Death is a metaphor when it is constructed culturally, then reinforced.
It is the openness of poetry that allows individuals to speak about death and dying in their writing. It is comforting to have an avenue to discuss the denial, refusal to mourn, and the acceptance of death through poetry. Metaphors allow us to deal with the unknown by linking it to something that is familiar, even calling death different things such as ‘the dark rider’ who comes in the night or ‘the grim reaper.’
The words ‘lost’ and ‘gone’ are often used to represent death instead of using the actual word itself. When a loved one dies, we tend to avoid the word in hopes of easing our pain. Likewise, the words ‘eternal rest’ and ‘sleep’ are used to denote how the living no longer is breathing or moving but dead. These metaphors may be convenient when it comes to talking or writing about death but the context within its use defines the reasoning for using them.
Death is a change that individuals must deal with and metaphors help in coping with the unfamiliar, mortality, the fear of dying, and to comfort our understanding.
 
Notes:
Sexton, James. “The Semantics of Death and Dying: Metaphor and Mortality.” Etc 54 Fall 1997; 333-345. Academic Search Premier: Wilson Web. Web. 13 October 2010. 

Violet Mystique is the latest novel and it's out today! I'm excited to share this as this is a story I've been working on for a long time. It has won the Literary Titan Silver Book Award. 
​
Her eyes could see right through me.

​                                                   Valentine’s Day Secret Admirer
 
It’s been a long time anyone has sent me paper mail. The only thing I receive are ads and offers for credit cards. This is new, though. An actual Valentine’s card… except it’s not from Peter. All it has is a picture of puppies in a basket with the words: “Love, Your secret admirer.”
Oddly enough, the joke continues on the back. The admirer says they will reveal his or her secret identity today at the same location Peter and I are going!
Tossing the letter aside, I proceeded to get dressed, and as I lowered my dress, there was a knock on the door.
“Coming!” I ran to the door. Peter was early. He must be very excited about today.
“Hi, babe.” He leaned in to kiss me on the lips. “Mmm... Could I possibly get anymore lucky?”
“Let me get my things and we can go.”
“Okay.” He let go of my waist.
I left him by the door and grabbed my purse and coat. Before I walked out, I stopped to glance at my admirer letter. Not bad Susan. Not bad. He has a nice built and he’s top of his engineering class. I’ll just have to forgive his joke.
 
“That was a great meal.”
“Yes,” I wiped my mouth, “yes it was.”
“I wanted to talk to you about something… something that’s been on my mind…”
I love it when he gets serious and nervous. His dark eyelashes seem to flutter when he speaks and I can watch his soft lips move. This time, I waited for him to confess to his ruse.
“I wanted to—”
“Excuse me.”
We both looked up. A young man stood holding a bottle of champagne. His eyes were so blue, you could taste the ocean.
“Would you mind if I sit here?” He pulled the chair out and sat, “It won’t take long,” he opened the bottle and called for a waiter who happened to be ready with three glasses.
“You know, we are kind of in the middle of a conversation,” Peter said.
“Not to mention dinner…” I pointed to the empty plates and shook my head. Then, I gasped and recalled this morning’s secret Valentine. If Peter didn’t send the letter…
“Who are you anyway?” Peter crossed his arms and frowned. I could hear the tapping of his shoes on the carpeted floor.
“I’m the secret admirer.”
“What is this man talking about?” Peter gestured. His voice stern. I was sure he would soon be ready to pop with that adorable vein he got in the middle of his forehead. “Listen, if he has been harassing you—”
“Now, Peter, let him explain. There must be some confusion or something.” I placed my hand on his forearm. “I never met this man before.”
“Yes you have. Three weeks ago. I helped you with your banking concerns.”
“My banking concerns?”
“We got to talking about what you do for a living. You have been withdrawing a hefty amount of cash about every three days since.”
“What?” Peter’s eyebrows shot up.
“I don’t know, honey. I really don’t. I haven’t been in a bank for two months. I do all my deposits online.”
He took a sip of his champagne, “Are you trying to tell me you’re not Sandra?”
“Sandra, of course!” I hit my forehead with the palm of my hand.
“What is going on here Susan?”
“Sandra’s my twin sister.”
“Twin sister?” Both men said in unison like a well-rehearsed choir.
“I feel really stupid about this.” The admirer said, with a whisp of sadness.
“Don’t be. You’ve done me a great help.” I paused. It isn’t like Sandra to do something like this, but during our annual Christmas reunion back home, she mentioned something about being bored with life.
“Why is she using your address?”
“I don’t know, but I’m going to find out.” I looked at both their puzzled faces. “Don’t worry. Leave it all to me.”
 
Three weeks later, Susan and Sandra were in the Bahamas, sipping on drinks and enjoying the beach scene.

Hi everyone! Today’s a good day for some writing.
The following is the opening sentence to a writing prompt.
You can use it or abuse it.
By that, I mean you can either use part of the sentence to start your writing or you can use all of it. The idea is to write something down, whether it’s a paragraph or short story.
Happy writing!
 
Prompt:
It’s not like there was anything wrong with me, but the clock struck ten o’clock and my nerves shot up as a bad omen.
 
My thoughts are supernatural! Metamorphism anyone? or Maybe just a bad case of test anxiety? Hmm…
​He spent all night at the bar, thinking about how she stood him up, and dozed off right when the game ended. Drool sipped out of his mouth while the funniest dream ensued in his mind. That was, until his phone went off at ten o’clock and… the dream played out in front of him. His nerves shot up and…