Is it cliche to share a love poem on Valentine’s Day? Maybe, but I am going to do it anyway haha! This ‘holiday’ I usually do a Galentine’s day shin dig – for example, last year we went to Panera for dinner and Barnes and Noble for bookish treats! This year I am thinking a self-care spa adventure: hair, nails, etc. 🙂 Love has always been a complicated emotion for me, and I believe it is filled in many of my friendships and relationships (of course the single, almost 30-something says this haha). However, I am constantly exploring what love means to me and how I can express it and share it with those I care about, regardless of what that relationship looks like.
In my creative writing class last month, we were able to choose from 4 poetry poems. In keeping with the day, I chose:
THE OTHER LOVE POEM
Write a poem of love addressed to a friend, a child, or a member of your family. Don’t spend more than a line telling the reader how much you love that person. Just find a moment or situation to describe that shows us your love.
As a reminder, over the course of this month, I will be sharing a piece from my final portfolio in the class on the blog. There won’t be much context given as not much usually is when work is shared publicly. As they say, no two people read the same thing – in this case short story or poem. All will be found in my Writing Portfolio page.
Without further ado, here is my (other) love poem:
Another fight, our biggest. We
are still new, figuring out each
other. Our flaws, our gifts. We are
deep in cushions, embraced by the
warmth of countless others who have
sat before us, yet my body
still rebels, refusing to play
the victim. I fumble with the
feathered pillow laid across my
lap, braced for impact of the tears
I’m fighting not to cascade down
my cheeks. My gaze looks upon his
almond eyes, slightly hardened like
the bark of a tree, then away
towards the kitchen table, remnants
of prior meals still strewn about,
abandoned like those fleeing for
refuge. The stillness continues.
I can barely hear the music
streaming from the telly, but I
grasp on to the lyrics as life
preservers to make sense of the
damage I have caused. It’s on
me, no doubts. I have held back, been
inauthentic, a liar, a
selfish protector. Time drags on.
He says nothing. I open my
mouth, primed to speak the rehearsed script
I’ve been devising the last half
hour of dead air, then close it,
my confidence wavering. This
is uncharted, too personal.
No one has unearthed me, all have
tried. His silence is an iron,
a constant press on me, the heat
rising from my skin as my nerves
grow. It’s too much. I burst. Out comes
the worry, the fear, the concern,
letting it go. Gravity pulls
it faster to the ground, unsure
as to what will remain in its
wake. He outstretches his arms, a
peace offering, empathy. That’s
when I knew. No going back now,
all in. Vulnerability
no longer a brick wall but a
welcoming window. Trust no more
a rigid shield, but endearing
love sheltering further storms. He
sees it on my face, impressed by
my grace, knows it’ll be different,
the steep mountain overtaken.
Anything is possible now.
What have you been working on in the creative writing department? What tips/advice do you have?