There’s something to be said about the healing power of poetry. Intuitively, I knew of its impact from a very young age. 

Growing up, I’d lock myself in my room on a Friday night and open a journal in my cozy creative corner, Christmas lights strung for the ambiance. Inspired by the singer-songwriters of my generation, I’d draft lyrics for hours about my personal life: my struggles with OCD, feeling like I didn’t fit in, my introversion, and the deep, aching sadness that plagued me for as long as I could remember.

They always say the best artists are tortured souls, and in many ways, I believe this to be true. But I don’t necessarily think you must suffer to be a good artist. More so, I think many artists just so happen to experience an immense amount of pain, turning to their art as a form of healing.

Perhaps we’re more sensitive than other people—more in tune with our emotions, more moved by our experiences. And perhaps, our art is our outlet. For me, that art is and always has been the written word.

Healing through Poetry

Poetry was my first love and has become my healer. Any time I try to articulate my emotions, I find it’s most easily achieved through poetic diction. Writing is my form of self-expression, and sharing my work with others is my form of connection. Every poem I’ve ever drafted, though done for my own fulfillment, secretly asks readers to understand, empathize, connect…to see me as I am: a complex, flawed, deep-feeling human who is simply trying her best.

There’s a vulnerability in poetry that most people avoid. It takes strength to dive into your own psyche, and even more to share it with the world around you. However, that honest, audacious self-reflection is the key to healing. If you can admit your own faults and wear your emotions like badges of honor, you can work through them with more confidence and self-compassion. 

I published my first poetry collection, Mourning Moon, after spending years of my life in a constant state of grief. There were many times throughout my childhood, teenage years, and young adulthood when I felt empty and hopeless. Trauma lived inside my body like a brick in my stomach, a hand around my throat, a knife through my heart. 

Back then, the only thing that seemed to get me out of bed was my love of writing. I’d spend hours each day putting my feelings into words, hiding behind metaphors and beautiful language. It was the only way I knew how to process my emotions and release the agony within me. 

Empowering Yourself Through Your Own Words

Poetry has empowered me to find my voice without requiring me to physically use it. Many tortured artists, like myself, are left feeling helpless, weak, and deeply ashamed, oftentimes from trauma they’ve endured or mental health struggles they face. But through poetry, I could hide behind my pen, and once the words were on paper, the driving forces behind them no longer held power over me.

I often wonder how non-writers get by without this creative outlet. If it weren’t for poetry, I fear I’d be the rage-filled, vengeful individual, given all the betrayal and trauma I’ve endured over the years. But my pen is both my weapon and my medicine.

Poetry has allowed me to share my thoughts and emotions freely, without feeling attached to or defined by them. It is a universal soul language—one we can all understand, if we are willing to open our hearts to it.