Writer's Life

A Published Poet Part Two

Last year I entered a Mental Health Poetry competition with Make Our Rights Reality (MORR), my poem Did You Know made it in the top 25 and the prize was for my poem to be published in an anthology. The digital anthology has been released, the physical anthology will be out after the lockdown in the UK is lifted.

Did You Know is a poem I wrote about my darkest time a few years ago, when I was suffering with depression. It is a letter I wrote to let those around me know how deep in depression I was. Poetry for me has always helped me process my emotions. Many of these poems stay in a notebook or on my computer, as I once found them too personal to publish. But I saw this competition as an opportunity to make my voice heard amongst those who have suffered with mental health issues.

I am really pleased with this poem. I can look back on the words I wrote and be grateful that I no longer feel that way. But knowing that this anthology will be read by other young people who may be suffering with their mental health and my poem may make them feel less alone, makes me proud.

Did you know?
by Emma-Jane Barlow

Did you know that in my darkest moments,
I imagined a world without my heart beating and I smiled?
Every day, I wished for a way out, searching for salvation,
a path that would lead me towards the light.

Did you know that before I shared the positive picture that you liked,
I was drowning in desolation on the bathroom floor?
On the edge, pierced with panic in my chest, the walls crumbling around me.
Trapped, desperately watching my dense tears descend to the ground.
Alone, clock ticking, waiting for the storm to pass.

Did you know the immeasurable time I spent fighting with my own mind?
A damaged wasteland, a toxic atmosphere, somewhere you would never want to be.
The countless moments I spent revisiting old conversations.
Analysing every-spoken-word, every-emotion-felt.
Exhausted by the endless cycle of never-feeling-good-enough.

Did you know the infinite seconds, minutes, hours that I struggled to find silence?
Wanting just a fleeting moment of peace amidst the chaos of my unruly thoughts.
Every day, I dragged my legs through the mud until the sun set in the sky.
Sleeping, my only sanctuary, my only safe space away from the bleak.
In my dreams, I was free from the demons that held me hostage.

Did you know that despite the glimmer you saw in my eyes, inside my soul was breaking?
The mask I wore was due to the fear of being misunderstood by a disapproving world.
When it slipped, the eyes would stare, the voices would whisper, the fear returned.
No one recognised the hopelessness in my heart, the desire I felt to eliminate the darkness
that was growing inside me, once and for all.

Did you know that although I am walking on solid ground today,
I am waiting for it to dissolve, without warning, beneath my feet once more?
I see the light, I feel the light, I am the light. I can finally breathe without pain.
Yet I know that one day, when I’m not watching, my demons will return.

View the full anthology here: http://makeourrightsreality.org.uk/young-people-use-poetry-to-speak-out-about-mental-health/

Writer's Life

I Love Being A Writer

typing
I love being a writer. Why you ask? There are many reasons… I love that writers think differently to other people. We see the world in a unique way and we have an ability to create, turn a blank page into something beautiful. Our minds are never empty, we’re always thinking in rhymes and metaphors and we not only want to write, we feel like we have to.

I love being a writer. It’s an amazing euphoria to escape into a character’s world and decide their fate. I love the way words can blend together and inspire others, I love the way black ink looks on a white page and I love the smell of old books and the fresh aroma of a book that has just been printed. I have pens scattered around the house, knowing that inspiration can strike when I least expect it. I could be drifting off to sleep and an idea ignites in my mind like a flame, I have to write it down so I can explore it in the morning.

I love being a writer but sometimes it’s hard. Writers are sensitive beings, we have to keep our emotions at the surface and call us judgemental if you wish, it’s our job to be. We have to analyse the people and the world around us, we have to see the flaws and we live to make assumptions. A person on the bus, a family member or a stranger walking his dog, anybody can ultimately become a character in our minds, so watch out! Writers have a natural curiosity. Being a writer is an important job. We have to create something from nothing. We have to inspire, make readers cry, laugh, smile. We have to paint a picture and make words dance on the page.

I love being a writer. I feel like I am part of a secret club, the non-writers in my life think that I am weird, quirky, posh and emotional but the writers out there know that these qualities are what we all possess. We all have the same burning passion in our hearts. We all hide away in a secluded room and pour our hearts onto a blank page, it’s exhausting, it’s amazing and it’s therapeutic.

I love being a writer.
I love being in a world where words are everything.
To put it simply, I live to write and I write to live.