This has been the worst blog month I've had in a long while. It's not that I haven't felt creative or had things to say. Because if you know me, you know I always have something to say. I've just been shunning technology in general lately. I use my computer once a day to check all the important stuff and catch up on blogs, and that's it.
It's sort of refreshing.
I was going through my office the other day--going through all the junk that was thrown in there when we moved in--and came across a binder filled with poetry I created back in my teenage angst years. You know the ones. No one understands me; the world is against me. Yeah, those years.
Most of the poetry in the binder is stuff I came across that I liked enough to print off or copy down. But some of it is of my own creation. I haven't written poetry since high school, and I don't even read the stuff anymore. A lot of it is kind of painful to read because how naive was I back then? Some of it makes me a giggle a little, but some of it does make me a little sad for the scared, emotional, sometimes very lonely person I was all those years ago.
But I find myself feeling a little nostalgic about those years when I could write about things I didn't really understand yet. I thought I'd share one:
When I knowingly gaze into the mirror
I no longer see my reflection
but that of a child.
A little girl
trapped in this body of a woman
unhappily stares back at me.
Her round eyes are mourning
yet praying to be set free
to break away
from my inner agony.
My dark emotions haunt her
this little girl feels so much pain.
I continue gazing at this child
and then I realize
she is not the cast away stranger
as I had believed.
She is me.
She is the child I once was.
My agony is her agony.
My emotions are also hers.
This child hidden deep inside me
hurts so much.
Now when I look into my mirror
I still see this sorrowful girl
but I also see the reflection
of the young woman she's become.
Okay, I feel a little naked after sharing that. Oh the wonderful days of teenage angst.