Truthful Friday No.1

Friday, February 21, 2014

I've decided to start sharing a truthful admission about myself and my life once a week, on Friday. It could be anything from a daily observation about myself or a quirk I've carried my whole life.
 For my first week I thought I'd share one of my poems. I was inspired to do this by one of my girlfriends who also writes and shared a beautiful poem about her faith. 
I can remember the first day I picked up a notebook and a pen and began writing. It wasn't out of boredom or for a class assignment, it was because there was an unmanageable heartbreak and sadness in my chest. Ever since that day, I wrote when I felt out of control and damaged. For that very reason I always kept my writing to myself because sharing with another person would mean complete vulnerability for me. 
In my Freshman english class we created blogs and shared our assignments with our classmates though them. We were also encouraged by our professor to share other writings we did outside of class. Thats when I shared my first poem with someone else other than Kevin and my best friend. 
The following poem was written roughly 3 years ago. It has no set rhythm or cadence. I don't have any discipline in my writing and it shows, but one day I'd like to take some creative writing classes just to better myself as a writer.  

When a bird breaks it's wing
it sings
a song of rescue, 
a song of regret.
Never second guessing the distance 
between itself and the ground.
Upon this broken wing an answer is found.

As thick as these pages are
the words will still bleed.
Staining the pages it proceeds.
You flip back from the end
to find when exactly when it broke.
Reliving it all again
and again. 

You never thought in all your years
you still be this scared
have all these fears.
Never seeing the sun though the clouds.
Paralyzed in your crippled state
you begin to decide you're too tired
to stay awake.

Then you hear the song
of a fallen bird.


It's not the easiest thing to share something that came from such a deep place.
A raw place. 
There is the chance of rejection from the reader.
Or embarrassment.
But maybe this will strike something familiar for someone
and through a few words we can be connected.


2 comments:

  1. so lovely and so vulnerable!! love that you are sharing. it takes bravery to share your art like that!

    ReplyDelete
    Replies
    1. Thanks Brittany, theres a moment of hesitation after I hit publish a lot of times "oh crap.. did I really just put that out there?.." but in the end I'm always glad I did!

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