polysyllogism

I've indulged myself as a hobbyist poet for more than two decades. My writing journey started during the angst of my teenage years.

Creative output since then has waned with the passage of time, and the maturation of my emotions. Once capable of filling notebooks with the fervor of adolescent rage inside a week, I'm pleased to report my emotional landscape is far better balanced now.

I revisit this pastime sporadically, utilizing it as a means of self-expression when necessary. I suspect there are moments when I consciously withdraw into myself, stifling my emotions and foregoing the need for artistic release.

However, last year, a tragedy shattered this once reliable, self-imposed emotional barrier. I lost my fiancé of five years to a nocturnal seizure. It knocked the wind out of me, as someone who has never really let myself be close to anyone until now.

So I've felt compelled to return to the written word as a cathartic outlet for my grief.

“Poetry is the spontaneous overflow of powerful feelings: it takes its origin from emotion recollected in tranquillity.”