I used to miss being a little girl. It was a time in my life when I did not think so much about the world and people. Being 20 is no joke. I’ve gotten lost and caught up in so much chaos. I had forgotten to prioritize. Everything in my life seemed so god damn important and I was left overthinking every situation, like the relationships I hold with my lovers and friends, or the issues I dealt with my family and inner self. They all seemed to just weigh me down, and some days it felt like I just cannot get back up. Before I found the remedy to the collisions of thoughts that were happening in the mind, I used to just let my problems sink me down. I used to drink to numb my thoughts and I used to allow myself to be the saddest individual in the world. Everything I had experienced was seen with a pair of pessimistic eyes. It was not until one of my good friends from college came back one night from the crafts store with a journal and handed it to me, uttering the words of “This is yours to write in.” that I came to face these demons of bad thoughts in my head through writing. I mean I had written before that time, but something about having my own journal allowed me to be free of my mind.

I started writing beautiful poetry. Now, do not let the word beautiful fool you. Nothing about the content of my poetry was beautiful, oh but the way it was written? Now that is beautiful. In my journal I have a way of just translating all my anger and frustration into lines of rhyme and creativity. After filling almost half the journal in a matter of a week, I knew I was blessed. I knew that poetry had saved me. My poetry is my remedy and my escape, my chocolate after sex, and my letter grade “A” after taking the hardest exam in the world. It completes me.

My mind tends to keep me in chains, like the caged bird that sings in Maya Angelou’s works of art. The cage is my mind, the singing bird is me, and well, the song is my poetry. Through my poetry, I can express how I feel and what is real, without holding out any detail, without feeling like it is too much to write and to voice. With my poetry, I have a choice; a choice to be free and a choice to fly, far away from my overthinking mind. I no longer cry, and if you haven’t noticed, I’ve purposely have written this article in a way that you can feel and imagine the poetic forces that have come to shape its’ entire meaning.

I no longer wish or miss to be a little girl anymore. I no longer think and dwell about the world and people in a way that used to be so unbearable. I know that with my words I can fight through the struggle of being caught up in thought and mess. I know that my poetry has given me the opportunity to think less and be less stressed.

I recognize my poetry to be my story, and so that story no longer has the power to hold me down. My story, in the form of my poetry, only does me good and elevates me.

Thank you.