Poetic Calming
by Cirsten
Oregon City OR
Before my little sister passed the only thing I could write was fiction. Now after having to figure out how to deal with overwhelming emotions, I can write some amazing poetry.
When I started writing my stories, my mom hid her poetry from me. She didn’t want to influence my writing style. But even as I was small most of my stories weren’t the pleasant stories most of the kids my age liked to write. They were story of ghosts and haunting pasts. I never was the one to be able write something happy without something scary or morbid happening first. The only time I’d even put up the effort to make something happy was when it was for school. Even then it still contained some morbid aspect. I’ve always had a morbid sense of writing.
It wasn’t until I presented my mom with my first poem that she allowed me to read some of hers. My first poem was one about my little sister, who had died the year before. I remember clearly how good it felt to let go of the emotion I had bottled up for a complete year. The release felt so good I just continued to write. It made me feel sane again. The outlet that I used continued to grow to where some of my poetry was no longer morbid, but I still wrote morbid things that brought vivid images to your mind. My mom, who is a photographer, told me that my poetry was like her pictures. They both capture the emotion the person felt.
My poetry has been an outlet for about two years. It’s a better outlet than violence and for me, it was even better than talking. I couldn’t talk about it. I stayed like I was for maybe a year and then my martial arts teacher challenged me to write my first poem. My wording ended up horrible, but that made me strive to get better. I continued write, mostly about my little sister or about pain I felt at the exact moment I wrote the poem.
Today if you asked me I could write about almost anything. I still write morbid things best. Often times I write what most people would call suicidal, but, I’m nowhere near that.
