This is the question I find myself asking a lot lately. Whether it’s a friendship no matter how long or short or a guy/girl you’re talking to. How much do you put up with? How long do you put up with it? I guess it’s not an easy answer. It depends on the individual and the situation. Nothing is ever black or white. It’s not even shades of grey. It’s reds, blues, or greens thrown in there too. What do you say to the person who doesn’t want to talk to you? Do you just let a relationship just go out like a candle or do you try? What does is say about you if you do nothing? Are you giving up or are you moving on? Like love and hate the line could be considered pretty thin. Why try to hold on to something that wants to be set free. Mariah Carey sang “wild horses run unbridled or their spirit dies”. When you’re younger you listen to music but sometimes you don’t really understand what’s being said until you live a little more and you come to certain crossroads in your own life that it clicks. No one wants to be known as the person who clipped someone else’s wings. Stood in the way of their dreams. So you let them go even when it hurts to breathe and the mention of their name still manages to bring you to your knees.
So you delete the number out of your phone to keep yourself from sending stupid messages or calling because you’ve had one too many drinks but it still doesn’t fill the hole in your heart. Everything else pales in comparison next to them and everything else seems second best. You can’t be around certain things because it reminds you of the pain. I know what you’re saying, “There are more important things in the world to worry about” but no one knows your struggles but you. Heartbreak can incapacitate just as easily as any physical ailment. The heart and mind can lead the body to places we didn’t think we can go. People can sometimes keep going when their bodies want to stop but not so much when your mind and heart are wanting to quit.
What makes a good poem? Does it need to rhyme? Should it mean something to you? These are the questions I ask myself every time I write a poem. Well those are the questions I used to ask myself anytime I wrote a poem. Then I stopped caring if it rhymed or made sense to anyone that wasn’t me. I stopped worrying about what made a poem good and just wrote what was in my heart at the time. Why I can write a poem better with a battered heart than when I’m content in my feelings? That I may never have the answer to. If I just wanted to sit and write a poem it’s hard and I find I have nothing to say but in that moment when you feel like your world is crashing down all around you the words come from some place deep within your soul that you didn’t even know existed until this moment. The moment when your heart was open, raw, exposed in such a way that you didn’t want anyone to see. But instead of shielding your heart away you show it along with your soul to anyone would would listen in words. Not actions but words. Words are powerful alone but together they can be unstoppable. Words have the power to turn a bad day good and a good day bad. Writing the words of my heart places a balm to my soul. It’s uplifting and helps ease what was broken. It helps cleanse me of the emotion by putting it on paper. If written correctly if can cause the emotion again when read later. It will bring up the memory of those words and make you feel again what you felt when you wrote it. It this a good thing? Sometimes it is because if I can’t feel the same emotion I was feeling when I originally wrote it then I didn’t capture it correctly. Why am I rambling on about a bunch of nonsense? Well it’s because I can’t write. I’ve been trying the last two days. I’ve got nothing. Tried to finish a poem that’s pretty much almost finished and I’m at a loss for the words. I remember why I was writing it but don’t know how to close it. It’s quite annoying. I did manage to write a bit on the follow up to my first novel but it’s not the same as poetry. I wanted to get back into it. It was my first love when I started writing after journaling. Now it’s like I can’t do it unless I feel like my heart is being ripped out of my chest. I want to do it when I’m happy and not just when I’m sad. They say “practice makes perfect”, but how am I supposed to practice writing when it’s so emotionally based for me? Writing without the emotion doesn’t seem real to me. It just seems like I’m trying to make everything rhyme, because good poetry doesn’t necessarily have to rhyme. It just has to have emotion. Atleast that’s my opinion anyway.