Where I Went When Things Fell Apart
...and how they fell back together
Self expression feels urgent.
March 9th, 2022. 9:42pm. Note from my iPhone.
I get this way a lot. Usually when I’m in a low place. This is when I explode in poetry. I am not necessarily happiest when I’m sad or romanticizing the ‘tormented artist’ story arc. Yet I recently noticed that my writing has evolved to be a symptom of, a reaction to, the antidot…