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My poetic self

The first time I wrote a poem, was when I was Grade 4. I remember my teacher reading one, and somehow I got it in my head that I needed to write one too. My first poem was simple. It wasn't exciting, and definitely not something that screamed, "WoW!". But, I did it. After this, this simple act of writing served me well in my journey throughout school and that awkward growth spurts and generally in life.

I am writing this post, because right now as I am writing in bed wrapped in a gown, I am very much aware of my physical and emotional space. For some reason, all I am thinking about is that I haven't written in a while...

Today, the ever present question is, "WHY HAVEN'T I....?" and "why is it bothering me right now?"

I am starting to come to a few conclusions and that is that my poetry is translated into other creative spaces such as my work and my art. But, somehow and somewhere deep down, I have to acknowledge the realization that I require some down time. I need some Me time and most importantly, a space of reflection. That is why, this question remains ever present today. My mental space is kicking and screaming, trying to be heard. It wants time just to unwind and reflect. It needs my poetic self again.

Poetry was the crux of my childhood life. It has served me well then, and I am trusting it to serve me now. The literary flow of words from our headspace can serve us well in unwinding and letting go of negative energy. Try it out, it doesn't need to be fancy, all you need to start, is to simply start writing...

This page before me,

Embraces the ink that flows from my pen,

And comforts

my heart...

my mind...

and my soul...

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