It’s been a hot minute since I wrote a poem. Lots of life has happened in the past couple weeks and I’ve barely been able to catch my breath. I’ve had to let many ideas die in the wind, barely able to find the time to eat dinner, let alone write anything. I wish time could pause sometimes.
Side note: everything right now is inspired by Paramore.
Tonight I thought I’d offer a little insight into my writing process. I have a relationship with my notebooks. I can look at each one sitting on my shelf and remember what phase I was going through at the time. That black and tan one with the ripped binding holds the pain of moving away from my best friends after college. The light blue one was filled in a single coffee shop during a period of extreme loneliness while drinking almond milk lattes every day. The pastel swirled one is dedicated to Twenty One Pilots. The zebra striped one holds the heartache of unrequited love. The orange one is when I started facing my demons. I could keep going.
I love holding a pen in my hand and feeling the energy of emotion flow through. I love being able to scribble through thoughts, keeping the record of struggle and indecision tangible. I like that I edit as I go, reminded of the imperfection at every glance. Writing is a messy art and I crave that hand to paper connection. Computers are convenient, but if given the choice I choose a notebook every time.
I hope your weekend was splendid. Sleep well my friends.
I ran out of time today to do everything that I wanted to do. I need to remember that it doesn’t make me a failure, but that my life is full.
Tonight I’m listening to acoustic Sleeping with Sirens and Grizfolk. I want to lose myself in the lyrics like I did yesterday at Warped Tour, closing my eyes and feeling the music of each band, letting it grab hold of my soul and claim a part of me, even for just a second.
I discovered a band called Onward Etc. If there’s one thing you’ll take away from this blog post, it’s to listen to them and find your own poem in their lyrics.
It’s amazing how quickly adrenaline can zap your heartbeat and tense your stomach when instinctual fear kicks in. A single moment of anxiety can linger for hours as the body struggles to let go of that jolt of intensity. I will most likely never know what that man was doing, standing on the corner outside of my apartment building, and I will never be able to explain why I felt such innate distrust, but I am certain of one thing: his presence had a lasting impression on me. Hours later, I’m still afraid to turn off my light and slip into the impending, terror infused dreams awaiting my psyche.
Tonight I’m obsessed with the song “Scene Four – Don’t You Ever Forget About Me” by Sleeping with Sirens. I’m pretty sure my roommate hates me because I just played it about 7 times in a row:
Don’t you ever forget about me When you toss and turn in your sleep I hope it’s because you can’t stop thinking about The reasons why you close your eyes I haunt your dreams at night So you can’t stop thinking about me Don’t stop thinking about me
Do you really think you could see this through Put on a smile and wear it for someone new Don’t you do it ‘Cause I know I’m not the easiest one to love But every ounce I have I invest in you But no one said love’s not for taking chances
Today is a brand new day, a day to let go, a day to take hold, a day to live in the moment. We are all shaped by our histories. They are written in the scars in our skin and the rhythms of our hearts, but those marks of yesterdays do not dictate who we will be today. Let what once was live in memory. Laugh at the good ones and learn from the bad ones. Remember, you are always moving forward.
Uncharacteristic rhyme tonight. There’s something about this poem that I really love. I almost didn’t write one, just thought maybe I’d let the TV drown out thinking until falling asleep, but I couldn’t just ignore my inner poet fighting to come out. She didn’t want to be ignored and I’m so glad I listened.
Today is my 2 year anniversary of this ol’ blog. It’s strange to go back and look and some of the old posts and remember where I was emotionally when I wrote those poems. Sometimes I’m in awe that I even wrote them. Actually, I was going through a tough time when I started She’s in Prison. My struggle was the catalyst of finding an outlet. I fear looking into that past and remembering that dark place. But, I guess that dark place inspired something pretty great. I’m proud of what I’ve accomplished on here and I thank all of you so much for sticking with me through it all.
It’s strange what can inspire a poem. For me it could be a song or an emotion or a chair sitting in the corner of a room. Today it was the word pursuit. I saw it in a poem I was reading and something sparked inside me. I knew that word had a poem of its own that I needed to get out. So I typed it at the top of my Word doc and without knowing what would flow, I began to type.
I don’t say it enough, but I really do love you guys. Thanks always for reading my unfiltered verse.