Poetry Is Therapy

When I was 16 I was stuck in a hole and didn’t have the mental strength to pull myself up. It was a gutwrenching state of mind and I suspected my worries would eat me alive. It was as if my soul was locked in a box and I needed to find a way to set it free. I tried countless prototypical forms of therapy and self-love rituals. The help I received was propitious, but I felt like a piece of me was still lost at sea. I was determined to paddle through rapids until I found the missing piece that would complete me. Finding a piece of your soul is like searching for a needle in a haystack. It is either impossible or requires a lot of dedication. I was determined. My expedition truly began when I started writing. I would turn my thoughts into poetry or simply dump my brain onto a sheet of paper. Writing became my passion and a miraculous form of therapy. The poems I fabricated were the missing puzzle piece. I found a way to untether my trapped soul.