Wednesday, January 15, 2014

Poetry Taylor Swift Style

January is turning out to be very introspective. It's like the cozy blue sweater I'm wearing. It's been the perfect backdrop for me to ask the big questions, to screw things up (over and over and over) and to actually get a few things right.
I've been getting pretty honest in January, pretty stripped down to the core and left to sort through all the mess with my own two hands, pretty raw.
I've been writing a lot this month, but not sharing a lot. The words I've written are words I'm incredibly proud of. They are some of the most brave, most honest words I feel I've ever written. When I get to the end of whatever I'm writing I can feel it in every part of my body and sometimes it helps me figure out what I'm thinking and sometimes I rework the same piece over and over again until I finally get it write (And sometimes I don't get it right.)
Most of the pieces I'm working on right now, and have been for the majority of this month, are addressed to certain people. Old friends and new friends and people who's stories I've heard or who have said something that struck a nerve with me. I write them all down, making pretty good poetry of it all.
I feel like that person that if you ask me if I'm writing about you, I probably am.
I feel like Taylor Swift in that I'm going to end up turning my heartbreaks and friendships and loves into pieces of art.
I understand now why people do it. I don't know if I would be so brave as to put it all out there for everyone to see, but I can understand why people do.
For me, writing is how I process the world. It's how I understand things, including relationships and things that happen in my life on a daily basis.
So recently I've been writing a lot of real, honest words, spending more time getting my feelings out onto paper (scribbling so fast the side of my hand is covered in ink and I can barely read what I've written) and less time blogging and talking about my feelings. Less being open with the world and more being open with myself. And I think there is a time for both.

Poetry has to be honest. Without honesty, it's useless

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