writing poetry without a muse...


for the last month or so i’ve been feeling less than motivated to write. as someone who relies heavily on a pen to release my emotions and thoughts, it’s been a rather difficult time. at first i was attributing my lack of inspiration to just being distracted by life. i’ve been working overtime at my job, trying to get back into a daily routine at the gym, and working on the #dontcallmecrazy project for Tribe so by the time i get home at night - the last thing i want to do is use my brain or dive into a realm of deep emotion. i literally want to do nothing but sit in silence and look at the wall. i was confident though, that as soon as life settled back down, i’d be able to jump back into writing like i had never left.

W R O N G .

i still have zero desire to write. i’ve tried writing this blog for the last 2 weeks and i get a couple sentences in and then i close my computer and go back to looking at the wall or scrolling my social media timelines. i use the notes in my phone to do a lot of my writing when i’m out and about and my last 17 notes are all unfinished sentences (some are even unfinished words) and they don’t even translate into anything. i haven’t been able to finish not even a page in a book. I literally have lost all focus to create anything. and to make matters worse, i’m growing more and more frustrated and the bitterness and resentment i am feeling towards myself is weighing heavy. some days i’ll catch myself conversing (and not in a nice tone) with myself, asking  “what is wrong with you?” or “this is what you love to do, why are you not allowing yourself to do it?!” the pressure i have placed on myself is already overwhelming and then to add insult to injury, i get on Instagram and see that i’m losing followers daily due to my inconsistency and lack of content.

* S I G H * 

i went on a trip to Nashville over this past weekend and i was hoping that somewhere along the 13 hour drive to and from that i would be able to reflect and try to figure out what was REALLY going on and how i could help myself. there i was driving along the beautiful (and LONG) interstate of Virginia, just having a regular conversation with my friend, and without conscious thought i just started talking.

“when i first started writing again after all those years, i had just broken up with steve* (name change because i’m trying to turn over my petty leaf) and everything i wrote about had to do with our relationship - loving him, losing him, being in that same rotation four times over, gaining closure, and finding myself somewhere in the mix. i had six years of material to sort and write out and now that i feel absolutely nothing towards him, i feel like i have nothing left to write about.”

there it was. the missing piece had finally made its way into the puzzle.

suddenly it all made sense. when you write for so long about one person, one experience, one moment in your life, and then you finally gain your sense of peace - where do you go from there? when you’ve gotten so comfortable, so dependent on expressing your thoughts about one person and then you no longer feel anything about them - what more is there to say?

i was in love once before steve* and it was with my first love. the love that in your heart you know is bound to end at some point but because you’re young, dumb, and madly in love - you don’t see anything but that person. when we broke up, i was in my mid-twenties and i swore i knew myself inside and out and that nothing or no one could knock me off my block (if you are in your mid-twenties, a word of advice - don’t do what i did and humble yourself sooner rather than later). i was ready to be single and live life as a vibrant, confident twenty-something. then came along the devil dressed in a God-like body and smile and my whole world as i knew it blew up in my face. i know now that this moment and experience was bound to happen as well and is simply a part of love and life but in the moment, it was like hell had risen to earth. i fell so deeply in love - adult love - that i didn’t even know what to do with myself. i relinquished every ounce of power that i had over myself to this one man. so you can imagine that once it was over (REALLY over), i was all kinds of lost.

i’ve been writing again since late 2015, writing poetry (and posting on social media) since late 2016, and 98% of my words were inspired by some sort of moment, experience, or emotion from that relationship. i came into my womanhood with him and for so long, I used that as a crutch but also my main source of confidence and validation. i had so much to say and reflect on that it carried me for years. now it’s the spring of 2018 and with time, i have completely healed, let go, accepted, and understood what that relationship was supposed to teach me, what i needed to change within myself, and how to move forward accordingly.

but now how do i continue to write poetry with no muse? poetry usually goes one of two ways - down the heartbreak or the love avenue, but down either is always a muse. maybe i’m thinking too deep into it (as per the usual) but i just feel … lost. maybe it’s time to take a little break from poetry and focus more on the blog side of writing. maybe i should learn how to write about moments as they are and not about the people within them. maybe i need to write about this moment, the feeling of nothing, and the havoc it can wreck on your mind and spirit.

maybe i just need to write whatever it is i want to instead of pressuring myself into creating profound pieces for Instagram, that will only end up showing to 10% of my following (insert emoji straight face). maybe i should focus more on that than downloading every dating app on the planet to help me find a new muse. because that’s also what i’ve done in these last 30+ days - obsessively swiping right on pictures of men i think will be able to create some sort of a storm in my world to shake things up a bit. you know, you would think after being heartbroken more times than one can count that i would have learned to stop leaning on men to create the storm and make one my damn self but today is a new day for trying (insert emoji girl with hand over face).

i know this post has probably gained and lost focus about a hundred times since i started writing it but it’s what real to me at this moment so i’m going with it. this is a true depiction of what my mind is like 24/7 - full of ups, downs, contradictions, and confusion. i do however, think this is what comes with the territory of being a creative being and using emotion and experience to drive your creative monster truck (i’m extra, i know). in my logical mind, i know these moments won’t last forever and i’ll get back into my groove eventually but for now, i’m going to try my hardest to embrace the one i’m in and push through it the best way i know how - with a pen in my hand and resilience as the ink.

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love & light,