BrightEyes-• Show poetry

I don't know what I am talking about.

I have been reading since I was three years old. It was then that I decided that I had to be a writer. Ever since then I have done my best to carry out my dream. So far so good.

I've no idea where I get my inspiration. I have never experienced death, love, or abuse but I have written about all of them. I write things in different styles at different times. I constantly become obsessed with the most recent of my works and then simply ignore everything else, but by the time I come out with something new, I have realized that my last poem was nothing but chicken scratch on note book paper, worn in at the creases where I have constantly unfolded and read it.

I do not enjoy my writing. I actually hate it most of the time. Despise it and wish that it would simply die. I do however love the gift that I have been given. Ever since I was young, I knew that this was what my life was made for. If I didn't write, there would be no future for me.

After I finish a poem, if I could describe what I feel, I guess it'd be.. infinite. For about two minutes, I feel truly infinite and beautiful and wonderful. I immediately post it on my favorite poetry board, and occasionally onto allpoetry and await others' criticism to put me back in my place. Call me a masochist if you will, but this is what I live for.

They say that we only use ten percent of our brains and I have lived my life in a frantic attempt to prove that wrong. I've read more books than any sane person should and I am constantly overworking myself.

My passion is books. I never wanted to write poetry, just horror stories. In the fourth grade however, my friend and I came together and wrote a poetry book for our teacher with 50 poems in all. Some of them actually weren't that bad, while others make me laugh hysterically to this day. After seeing how easily I could write poems, which I view as simply a shorter form of a story, I decided that they weren't that bad.

Not to mention I could finish them in a couple of minutes whereas my stories took me weeks, if not months and years, and I adamantly refuse, (to this day even) to let anyone read something of mine that is not yet finished.

I live a simple life with the people I love and am quite fond of hanging around my house and doing absolutely nothing. Setting up a chair on my back porch by the pool and reading a good book in the sun.

My life revolves around words and I long to know every single one of them and their meaning. I believe that the English language is beautiful and that we should all try a bit more strenuously to include some of the words that people in the old days used to use fluently to our own language today. The adaption of slang is something that I frown upon terribly. The words that people used to only use in very informal meetings have no become typical for this day and age and I think that it's terrible.

If you use larger words effectively in your poetry it's more than likely that I will love it. I'm a nitpick when it comes to grammar but I'm far better at finding others' mistakes than my own. I use commas too often because my second grade teacher terribly confused me and that lesson has just always stuck with me.