A piece of my poetry circle is broken. A friend who listened and let me talk through poems with him has distanced himself from me. Makes me beg him to read my poems. Blows me off like I'm a worthless nobody. Why? I don't know. But there's magic in being over kneeling at his feet and begging--my poems deserve more than that. I reached out to a poet I admire, who I've never met except on zoom open mics, and I asked him to be my poetry buddy. He said yes! I don't think I'd have reached out to my new poetry buddy if my other poetry-friendship hadn't broken. Sometimes the best magic can be found among shards. This isn't a poem, but poems will flow from it. And perhaps stepping away will allow my broken friendship to mend--who knows?
A piece of my poetry circle is broken. A friend who listened and let me talk through poems with him has distanced himself from me. Makes me beg him to read my poems. Blows me off like I'm a worthless nobody. Why? I don't know. But there's magic in being over kneeling at his feet and begging--my poems deserve more than that. I reached out to a poet I admire, who I've never met except on zoom open mics, and I asked him to be my poetry buddy. He said yes! I don't think I'd have reached out to my new poetry buddy if my other poetry-friendship hadn't broken. Sometimes the best magic can be found among shards. This isn't a poem, but poems will flow from it. And perhaps stepping away will allow my broken friendship to mend--who knows?