We all lose ourselves at some point. We find ourselves alone, confused, and unable to find the answers to our late-night thoughts. I am glad to say I found myself in the most beautiful way possible: through a love of poetry. After reading Rupi Kaur’s Milk and Honey collection, I knew I wanted to be a writer myself. When a book leaves you with tears rolling down your face, leaves you so immersed that you forget you’re surrounded by hundreds of other students in your library, the writer has truly achieved their goal. I want my words to not be simply read, but for the meaning behind my words to move readers and to reach them on a more personal level.
One of the first poems I ever wrote went as follows:
you took my seed
and planted me
in your garden of lies,
but as i grew
i decided to bloom
elsewhere.
And that’s exactly what I did. Writing became an artistic outlet for me to express my creative self through the good, the bad, and the ugly. I found myself sharing my work with friends in the Underground Cafe and taking joy in their positive feedback. I write not only for myself but for others who are also experiencing the daily struggles as a college student.
For the one who has experienced loss on different levels, whether it be a friend or a lover, and the hurt that follows… this is for you:
Memories to you
are like chalk
to the board.
yet no matter
how hard you try…
dust
lingers.
For the one who is always the last to finish their exam, the one who is always dwelling on their insecurities, and the one who always questions their self-worth when they really should not… this is for you:
Never let anyone
have the power
to make you feel
uncomfortable,
in your own skin.
-my morning epiphany
And for the one who is lucky enough to experience a love as sweet as candy… this is for you:
Hershey has nothing
on the kisses
you have to offer.
you satisfy all those cravings
and
electrify all my in-betweens,
minus the calories
of the entire Milky Way.
Poetry became letters I’d never send, and a keepsake to remind me of where I once was, and how far I have come since then. The beauty of poetry itself is that it can be anything you imagine it to be, in other words, poetry just is. It’s a story that reflects light, even on our darkest of nights; an art that allows each individual to interpret in their own unique way. So the next time you find yourself lying in bed, with thoughts consuming your head, I challenge you to let your imagination take flight!