When I first started writing, it was to cope.
I spun tales of people with pain just like mine. I gave them happy endings. I sent them to the noose. I blurred the line between catharsis and self-indulgence. I made readers cry when I was too tired to.
And that's what I learned art was.
Art was an expression of feeling, of something holding you in such an artistic chokehold your dying breath feels rainbow-colored. Some people wrote ballads, others love songs.
But I was only good for elegies.
Whenever I laughed, there was no mirth behind the sound. When I smiled, I had to remember to squint my eyes. A chokehold. My chest never expanded all the way, my hands shook when I spoke to strangers, and my voice died in my throat when someone yelled. Artisanal pain. And I had ability to scoop that molten lava feeling and smear it on paper. Rainbow-colored breath.
When I stood at the pharamacy, holding my presciption of serotonin, I was terrified.
What good is an artist if they're not starving? An author's portrait needs to have tear tracks. I was never passionate enoug for ballads, never romantic enough for love songs. Why was I killing my only connection to this craft? The only thing that made me worth something?
I took the pills anyways. Because I didn't want to choke anymore. Because I didn't want to be remembered as another artist who died young. Because I was done giving people my last breaths.
I was half surprised when my creativity didn't dry up.
I was so used to turning to art to find the words I didn't have for feelings that threatened to swallow me whole. But art still held my hand when I took a full breath. My beloved, turned from a punching bag to a space to breathe.
When I sit down to write, it's to think.
I spin tales of heartache and healing and moving on and getting stuck. I write happy endings. I write bittersweet goodbyes. I blur the lines between hopelessness and hope. I make my readers sigh, cry, and wish.
And that's what art is. A living soul reaching out across the cold page to turn it into something warm, something human.
And I don't have to die for the rainbow to spill.
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125,005 Literary Works • 672,795 Reviews
Hello, everyone!
I just wanted to let everyone know that this is intended to be a prose poem. Therefore, it doesn't have a lot of traditional poetic elements. That is purposeful. ^^
prose poetry is so effortless. i love it!
your writing captures that tension between pain and creation so powerfully. the way you describe 'art as an expression of feeling' and that 'artistic chokehold' is visceral, like i can feel the weight you’ve carried. poetry rarely makes me feel things on a physical level, but this managed to. it feels like stepping out into the morning air after a sleepless night. refreshing, but somewhat overwhelming.
i love how you explore the shift from using art as a way to bleed out emotions to finding it as a space to breathe. the line, 'my beloved, turned from a punching bag to a space to breathe,' is so beautifully raw. it’s like you’ve found a way to turn your pain into something gentle, without losing the depth it gives to your work.
i wonder if you might give a little more space to that transformation. such as, those moments when art became a place to breathe instead of a place to bleed. i think it would make the shift feel even more like a sunrise after a long, dark night. this is strong as is, but i wonder if it could metamorphose better. after the pharmacy scene, it starts to blur into one. the imagery loses its sparkle soon after, unfortunately.
a testament to resilience. being an artist is painful yet the rewards are very telling. thank you for sharing this—it feels like a conversation with an old friend ^v^
Hai :3
This is such a good poem!! I love how you start with writing as a coping mechanism!! That feels so relatable!! The way you describe writing as a tool for both catharsis and self-indulgence, like there's this tension between helping yourself and just pouring it all out, is perfect. It's like you're putting the reader in this position where they’re seeing the struggle right in front of them, and I think that creates this immediate connection. It's personal to you, but it's universal at the same time.
!!! The visual here is so pretty!!
I'm obsessed with how you give art such a physical, suffocating presence, but then balance it with beauty like rainbow-colored breath. It’s like art is both agony and this vivid explosion of color and meaning. It's this whole duality thing going on!! It's very chilling, but it's also very comforting. The phrasing really captures the essence of what art can feel like ~~ Like, how it can consume you but also give you something radiant in return, even when it’s squeezing the life out of you. I love that!!
I could feel this moment with you!! It’s such a huge turning point, and it’s written in this really vulnerable, honest way. The fear of losing your creativity, your connection to this craft, hit me like a truck because it's so real for so many people who rely on art to express their struggles. You’re really capturing that stereotype of the "starving artist" and the internal debate of whether you can still create if you aren’t suffering. That's bitter and a little painful, but it's captivating!!
^^^ Though, I think there is a big tonal shift here. The poem moves between very raw, confessional moments and then philosophical reflections. That can totally work, but I think there are a few spots where the transition could be smoothed out!! For example, here with the pharmacy scene. It's very literal in a sea of very metaphorical imagery. Maybe you can play around with connecting those thoughts more fluidly, or add a few lines to bridge that jump!! It's very sudden, you know?
This floored me !!!
That’s such an emotional resolution!! The narrator gets to live and still create, still bring that rainbow of emotion into the world without suffering for it. That’s such a powerful takeaway ~~ Like, art doesn’t have to be tied to pain, and you absolutely nailed it!! This whole poem has this incredible arc from struggling and choking on emotion, to finding breath and balance. I love how personal you've made it as well!! It's such a good transformation. Amazing work with this!! <3
- Payton