Once upon a time there was a little girl that loved books. The library was one of her favorite places to be and she never knew why. Her mother of course would pay late fees because reading a book once was never good enough. They eventually developed this tradition everywhere they went and one day she stumbled upon a poem written by her mother. It was something in her mother’s poetry that inspired her and she’s been writing ever since.
This is pretty much how my story began. In the 7th grade my teacher told me to submit my poetry to poetry.com and I did for a few years past then. Writing was my expression and cure for dealing with the world around me. Between the good times I had growing up in a single parent home, there were bad times that overshadowed those good times and my secret place was anywhere I could write. Once my mother realized that I loved writing she began to get me notebooks, journals and all sorts of pencils and pens so I could pour my heart out. Throughout middle school and high school, I zoomed in and wrote about my experiences in foster care, suicidal thoughts and a lot of the dark past that only those close to me knew about. I gave all of that up for a while after finding out that someone I trusted allowed my writings to be trashed while I was away at basic training. In my mind that was the end of my writing journey. In one notebook lay years of work composing of three to four sections of what would be my first poetry collection.
Somewhere along the lines I thought it was better to lose that than to loose my life going near an abuser. So I started over but it wasn’t the same. Ten years later and I feel as thought I’ve come back stronger when I thought I wouldn’t be able to. Writing is my form of expression and if I couldn’t write, I’m not sure what I would do as time would pass me by. To me writing is my cure for survival. This is why I write.
Peace & Love