Happy national poetry day! I shall mark my calendar because I was not aware of this occasion up until some tweet notifications came through.
Today I want to quickly share a poem to celebrate this day. It is very recent, actually, from last night. I rarely get bursts of inspiration these days but yesterday ended with a bundle of overwhelming feelings I haven’t experienced in quite a while, and at 12 am this artpiece was born!
The year of 2015 was the peak of my writing. Everything was so unexplored yet so genuine. As I was growing and taking the first steps towards more serious and consistent ways of expressing myself, the emotion was very raw and there was a lot of it.
Now, one day I skimmed through my previous files and looked at my writing blog just to find a piece of poetry that I consider to be the longest and the most honest one I’ve ever written. It was the only time I remember having such spark of inspiration. Hopelessness was part of it and the title of this post is, indeed, dramatic but so is this piece!
A little backstory: it was written in April, 2015. During that time, I was approaching my final high school exams and graduation. I – someone who was not getting the grades she wanted, who was losing interest in academic success, who was starting to explore herself and whose explorations scared the living shit out of her. I think I was also starting to get to know art, graphics and editing, but it was really hard to do without any artistic background or education. With art, there also was an issue of exposure – putting your work for people to see. Long story short, I was developing a habit of hating my work. Additionally to that, there was a collision of worlds: senior year of high school, upcoming adulthood and a new life ahead were weighing heavily on my shoulders.
And even though some issues were tackled, new ones were born, I grew as a person and am handling myself well enough, this piece remains very important to me. It’s the manifesto to the loss of innocence; to growth; to adolescence; to blooming dreams of a youngster.
It’s a song to my rebelliously ambitious self. Sung as a contradiction to itself.
— Don’t think of it too much, just enjoy —
Today I felt ill. In a state between consciousness and silence, there was a stumbling me. As I dizzily made my way to the bathroom, my body was on fire and one glance at the mirror had me staring back, through blood.
As I walked, bones broke. As I touched, felt heat instead of skin. It’s not pleasant. And at that state of mind, one of a boiling egg, I started vomiting words.
Happens a lot.
Though not particularly often in given situation. But I listened. And then wrote, surprisingly steadily, knowing that five minutes ago I had to lean against walls.
At first I thought I was writing about my physical symptoms but later on felt something more. The anxiousness of my life fell directly into the same lines below.
The body was on fire;
Awaiting death or
Burning with desire;
The eyes shot blood
And traced it;
While step by step it
All becomes too wasted;
The only difference was that after a few days, the physical symptoms will pass.
Sometimes I look back and can’t believe that I used to be a bookworm. And it’s not because I can’t imagine myself with a book or am not the type to enjoy reading anymore. No, it’s because I haven’t touched a book in such a long time that just thinking about it makes me silently go ‘woah.’
Take a few steps in
The water becomes colder
Numbing the feelings
Diving in deeper
Just as I become older
My journey begins
When it comes to poetry, my journey begins way earlier than you’d expect. However, at the time I was less aware of the word ‘poetry’ and more into ‘these lines sound pretty when they rhyme.’