The first time I took pen to paper
to write poetry, I was heart broken beyond belief. The kind where anger was seeping out of the cracks, like gasoline dripping onto a floor covered in flames. Poetry has been my partner in crime for about a year now- the best kind of crime. I’ve spilled my heart out to her more times than I can count and have spent countless hours slurping her up like there’s no tomorrow. She nourishes me beyond belief – we have the type of relationship where I can engage with her day to day without losing interest. I am insatiable when it comes to poetry, yet I’m not sure I want to reach satiety. I want this love affair to continue till the day that I die. She welcomes me to express whatever I’m feeling: ranging from deep passion to intense contempt. To make it seem like it’s been a total walk in the park wouldn’t be very transparent of me. There’s been times where we’ve had our conflict. Where I haven’t felt the sparks between her and I or I felt like engaging with her was like pulling teeth out, bringing my past trauma and all the related emotions to the surface. That being said, I feel like she’s pushed me to my limits in the best way possible. She’s helped me to embrace catharsis and all the wonderful emotions that are brought about after I cross that bridge. I’ve written love poems with her, hate poems, poems about loss, the passion of life, our Earth-and beyond. Loving her has taught me so much. What non-conventional parts of your life do you have a love affair with and how can you keep that affair going steady?
