WIELDING THE WRITTEN WORD

Wielding the written word wins above all outlets
A release through manipulation of alphabets

Frustrations thrown out in frenzied syllables
The joy of unburdening is incomparable

No tears, blood nor screams – feels right
Pen to paper, fingertips on keyboard – just write

Pressing on pain using coded metaphors
Vowels and consonants that unlock spiritual doors

To strip bare emotions, thoughts and the subconscious
Medicinal, therapeutic – comfort in words so precious

K.G. says…

I’ve always been good at writing, especially for someone who, weirdly enough, doesn’t read much. Writing was one of the first things I was good at, along with drawing. I enjoyed and immersed myself in it once I got into the flow but somewhere down the line I stopped practising [probably due to discovering other interests ~~such as girls~~].

Now, I’ve fallen in love with it again. It gives me great pleasure as my escape route from the real world. It enables me to counsel myself. It gives me the voice to express thoughts and feelings that I’d struggle to speak out loud. Thus, I wrote this piece – an ode to the art of literature.

NOT EVERYONE IS ME

Not everyone is me and I’m certainly not everyone
They’re supposedly unique but I’m definitely unlike anyone
Compare myself with an animal, you insist?
Well, that creature simply does not exist
Used to want to bed in with all the others
To lay alongside them beneath the same covers
Grew up shy, feeling awkward and odd
Often left playing alone, just me on my tod
Whether to act like they did, sometimes I’d rehearse
How to make myself fit in and lift this weirdo’s curse

Not everyone is me; I eventually accepted
To stay true to myself and not to what they expected
Troubled childhood memories that long haunted me
Banished to the back of mind by a moment’s clarity
This weirdo’s curse may in fact be my blessing
Loving how my peculiar ways leave them guessing
Being all me, all the time remains a work in progress
Thankfully now, I no longer feel hopeless
Perhaps I’m special or maybe I’m just strange
Whichever way they see it, I refuse to change

K.G. says…

Not many of my poems convey my inner most thoughts and feelings from start to finish. In fact when writing, I’m often able to position myself in scenarios and empathise with emotions I haven’t experienced deeply. Don’t ask me how; it just happens somehow.

This piece, however, is different. It’s one of the sincerest expressions of my true feelings. The subject matter has long been a recurring thought in my mind, particularly when I was younger. It’s something I’ve learned to embrace and hopefully it can help others to accept themselves for how they are. It’s perfectly fine to have quirks and be different to everyone else. Being “normal” is so common.