I often write on Limebird about how I write and what my experiences have been with finding my feet as a writer.
To be honest, I’m still looking for them.
I can write an absolutely huge, all-encompassing swamp of wordage and find, after inspection, it amounted to nought.
Sometimes words can fly from me with devastating fury, as if an outpouring of passion is akin to creativity on a firm and foundational level.
That’s how I approach poetry. To me, poetry is a butterfly captured in a glass jar. A fleeting, tangling, tumultuous emotion that has been dashed down on paper and cannot be altered, lest you lose the emotive spirit of the thing.
No, with prose, it is harder. Abundantly so.
View original post 410 more words