Poetry Corner: I Started Writing

This is a short one. Apologies.

There are moments when I write things to people (whether I send it to them or not) because I was thinking of them, I missed them, etc. After writing whatever I intend to send or after I do send it, I feel this little jolt of anxiety mixed with the anticipation of waiting to hear back from them… But before I hear back, before I get to send out any message –  something tragic happens.

A loved grandma has died.

Their 15 year old dog has died; more family than anything.

The city that they live in, the metro that they ride, is bombed and attacked. 

My anxiety and anticipation go into overdrive. I altogether want to say everything yet, I end up saying nothing; My friends and family are left speechless too after hearing my original questions:

‘Hey, how is your grandma doing these days?’

‘How is Pitt? Is she still chasing the ball? I need to visit soon!’

‘I hope you’re well – sincerely!’ 

I wrote this poem for a boy I missed. A friend I hadn’t heard from in a while. We’re close, but far away. He’s from St. Petersburg, Russia, which just experienced a terrorist attack on the Metro around 2:30 pm.  He should have received my email around 6:00 am this morning, since I wrote it last night. I haven’t yet heard from him though. I’m hoping that I will. ❤

So, this is one of those moments. Where it seems I speak tragedy into existence, but that’s not what this is. That’s not what has happened. Perhaps it’s just a tragic coincidence. Perhaps it was a way for me to show my love – but with such terrible timing!

Here’s a poem. I hope you like it. Ta! 🙂


I started writing.

It began with lyrics,

Then stories,

Then poems.

I started to miss this.

Whatever this is.

Whatever mist hid the emotions that

Were kept at bay, departed, and so I started writing.

It began with pining,

Then longing,

Then wishing.

I started hoping in this.

Whatever this was.

Whatever lust fed the emotions that

Were creeping into my speech and so I started to retreat.

It ended with me wishing,

Then missing,

Then forgetting.

I started this cycle again – whatever cycle we are in.


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