World Poetry Day

Taking a deep breath as I begin this blog. Poetry is so important to me. My life as far back as I can remember I wrote poetry to let out my pain. To be able to put into words how I felt. Some in hidden ways, but some clear and pointed. For me, poetry was one of the few things I was proud of. My grandfather was always having me write poetry to read at church. I wrote poems for my grandmother’s funeral and long before my grandpa lost his ability to think he made sure I knew he wanted a reading from me. Even in death, he was my biggest fan.

I had journals, notebooks, and those black and white paper ledgers. I wrote when I was sad, in love, scared, hopeful, hurt, sick, and everything in between. I had stacks and stacks of journals. I saved them all. Then I moved to Long Island to be with my boyfriend who turned into my husband and is now my ex. We moved so many times that I eventually got rid of a lot of things but still held onto my beloved journals. Until my ex started reading them one day and told me how bad they were. See, back then my world revolved around making him happy and doing what he wanted. He wanted me to toss all the journals that were taking up the room. I didn’t know the way this would destroy me. I did as I was told and was rid of all the journals. 

You know self-care is very different for each of us but also the idea is the same. Maybe you write out your feelings for various reasons but in the long run, we all do it to help ourselves release things we can’t otherwise release. 

Pages bound in familiarness 

My fingers gentle run along the spine 

Feeling connected trying to hold on

Opening the pages 

The memories explode 

The written words fighting, blood smearing 

Heavy laden with anticipation

To be heard – to be understood.  

Not caring the ink comes from my veins

In a flash, the bound pages were all gone

The wind whipped them away 

All of me taken with them

If only I had freed them 

If only I had burned them

If only I had not bled for them

Control took me by storm

Tender Love bashed me 

My blood pools

 My mind weak

Never again.

XOXO, Evie

Unicorn Journal: Click HERE

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