First, some explaining.
I have been having a lot of difficulties with technology lately. My old faithful laptop has been broken for around three weeks and finally went to the shop, so I can’t access any of my files from there. Also, just recently, I lost a USB stick and broke another.
The broken USB held a LOT of my poetry. And it can’t be recovered.
I don’t know if that’s really a bad thing.
Most of my poetry for the past five years has focused on a single figure: my ex-boyfriend.
No, I’m not that bitter ex who can’t get over a guy. Of course, I imagine that he wishes this were the case. And I suppose it’s not quite fair to say that the poetry is all about him. It’s mostly about me. And what he did to me.
He was verbally, emotionally and sexually abusive for the entire duration of our relationship.
That’s not something that you wake up over from. That’s something they give you medication for, because the nightmares make you hate sleeping. That’s something they take you to therapy for. That’s something that gets you labelled a liar and a slut because, unfortunately, there exists a little thing called rape culture.
That’s something I put pen to paper for, because there was no other way to make the feelings make sense.
It’s not that it’s bad poetry, though I am not one to judge the quality of my own work. But it was primarily a release, something to shove in the face of everyone who told me to stop talking about it.
I think it’s time, though, that I stopped writing about it.
I’m as close to happy as I’ve ever been. I like my coursework, my parents and I are finally okay, and I have a close group of friends whom I love and whom I am loved by in return. I was never broken; merely bent.
And that’s why I have to stop writing exclusively about him. He doesn’t deserve any more of my time.
Of course, if I am triggered, I will write. But that won’t be the first thing I show to people.
You see, I have started writing about mythological and biblical figures. It’s fun. I like it. Other people like it. It’s full of allusions and word-play and craft. I write about what it’s like to have depression. I write about love.
I want to keep writing about this stuff. I like it way more than I liked my old work.
Of course, I do want to have one final hurrah for my work on the subject of the bastard. I’ve been working for years on a chapbook called “hymns for a bastard” and maybe I’ll finally get around to publishing it (after Zombvenger. I can only do so much). But his era is done.
Long live the poetry revolution!