How poetry has helped me heal

You do not have to write from a place of pain.

Credit: Nick Fewings on Unsplash

Gosh, I’ve loved poetry for so long. I think it’s truly the first form of writing that made me think, “I want my words to make people feel things.” As I got older, that flame steadily grew, and I feel like high school is when I really stepped into myself as a creative writer and poet. What started as casual readings here and there in coffeehouses grew to immersing myself in performance slam poetry (like many, Saul Williams got me hooked from the get-go). By that point, my confidence and inner bonfire burned so bright that I skipped both of my proms (no regrets!) to travel and compete in the Brave New Voices festival put on every year by an organization called Youth Speaks. Fast-forward to college, where I amassed both English and Spanish poetry portfolios, performed at the Lower East Side cultural staple Nuyorican Poets Café, and began to publish my poems in small anthologies. While I almost went on to get my MFA in poetry, I swerved down the journalism path instead, and ultimately thought it was the better option for paying my bills (it was). But I don’t think I’ll ever lose the pull to express myself in that way — especially when it comes to my health.

Unlike the writing I do here and elsewhere these days, there’s just something about poetry that hits differently. Maybe it’s the intersection of both freeform and traditional formats, or the true emotional liberation to make others see the world in a tangible yet abstract way. For me, it just feels like a word lover’s playground — alliteration and I are in a relationship, OK?  —  and a vibrant way to process the world around me. It’s healed me in a lot of ways.

But like a lot of artforms, I find poetry has a significant amount of gatekeeping attached to it — that you have to be a “certain type of creative” with a certain level of knowledge to tackle it. My advice? Go for it. Just like journaling, you don’t need schooling or a special degree to try it, nor do you need a sweeping sob story to get started. You do not have to write from a place of pain. Poetry is meant to be playful and joyful and heartbreaking and messy and illuminating and full of feeling — even if no one ever reads it. While yes, some more structured formats like sonnets, limericks, and haikus have specific requirements like syllable counts, line lengths, accented vs. unaccented beats, and particular rhyme schemes — throw all of that out of your head and start writing.

So, how do I begin?