I've been in sort of a funk lately. I'm not sure why. Ok, in the name of honesty, I have a pretty good idea why, but I don't think I'm ready to go there quite yet.
Anywho.
My mind is spinning with thoughts of poetry and it's days like today that I wish I was gifted in that domain. That talent would really come in handy for me this particular week, as a matter of fact. You see, for one of my classes we were given the assignment to write a poem. Not just any poem. A poem with 14 specific words that must be included at some point. Wow. I recall one of my very first blog posts being an "object" poem that I was assigned in my creative writing class last year. I had to include 3 specific words and writing that thing was pure torture. I still read it and cringe.
Despite my recently established "funk," in which normally I would feel at least some inspiration, I'm left completely impression-less. I even searched out old notebooks in hopes that I would find neurotic stimulation to put me up to this tedious task. Unfortunately, I found nothing of the sort. Instead I came across some old depressing poems I had forgotten about, but somehow feel like sharing. This one ironically fits in perfectly with this week.
When I wrote this, I dedicated it to Riley-- for her birthday.
I realize that no one, probably not even the person I wrote it for will get it.
I will post it anyway, sharing my depth through vagueness once again. For that, my friends, is an art-form I have MASTERED.
Hidden behind the anger, the resentment
beneath the scars, the physical
witness of an internal battle
lies a girl who is everything.
Bright. Witty. Bold. Beautiful.
Consumed by her own self-loathing.
She appears empty, but I will show
you a girl who knows this is not so.
Hidden behind stillness and apparent
unshaken strength
beneath poetic words full of power
a true poster child for hope and healing
lies a girl who is nothing
Hollow. Empty. Weak. Alone.
Consumed by her own self-loathing.
Yup, definitely fits the funk this week.
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