A forty minute bumpy ride, with engine rumbles disrupting the air that I hear but don’t listen to and even the voices that fill my diminishing personal space are just white noise in my quiet. Somehow I’d forgotten how to lose myself in thought. I’d forgotten what escape was. I’d forgotten that this time was…
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I feared in cutting my hair I would
Cut away my ability to twirl the locks
Around my finger and in turn
Be left with a loss of femininity.
But femininity isn’t found
In my wearing of a dress nor is it
Erased by boots and leather jackets.
It isn’t seen but expressed with a soft
Caress of his neck or a hand through his hair
And flushed cheeks in the sun.
Sweet smiles and a head held high.
Femininity is the delicacy of a flower
And the power of a diamond
That will never break and
It’s pretty because it sparkles
Not because it’s rare.
Names always seemed to sound strange to say
Maybe I was just afraid of them meaning too much,
But I just want to say yours over
And over and over, I want to savour it,
I just want to feel it roll off my tongue.
And my name sounds like a song when you say it
Or should I say sing?
I could listen to you speak for an eternity
Your words filled with life and love
And light, your face ignites with the brightness
Of your smile and your eyes,
I never want to stop looking at you.
You inspire me.
You inspire me to grow.
Music holds more memories than we remember
A melody is nostalgia and a photo album of sounds
I remember my life through the lyrics that touched me and
The songs connected to people
And days and nights
And moments
Some sounds touch the heart
And remind me of feelings I can feel I once felt
But don’t remember
Put simply, this is a personal essay about how I became the writer I am today. I revisit some of the poems that kickstarted my journey as a writer and more specifically, a poet, and how I discovered my love for poetry. I take a look at some of the obstacles I overcame to get to where I am, and how I came to welcome my identity as a writer. Basically, it’s going to be a bit of a long one, so buckle up!
Writing is such a big part of me, so much so that I’m just not me when I’m not writing.
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Journal Entry | 18/12/18
A reflection on the past year and the lessons I’ve learned.
Sometimes I wish I could be like a tree.
If I were a tree at least I’d know my purpose (or I wouldn’t know I had one).
But instead I’m here, not still but not moving, questioning…
Who am I supposed to be?
Read More100 words for my 100th post
Read MoreLast night while my eyes were closed, I turned into a mermaid. It all started on a fairly regular day when my family and I decided we wanted to try out a new place to eat, specifically to try the breakfast sandwich on their menu. It had a name I don’t remember, but there was…
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Lauren Kathleen 