"Write a poem on something that scares you. Try referring to a personal experiance."
I ponder upon the possibilities; death, loss, rejection, abuse... I could continue but the fear is already building up within me.
So I have my topic, brilliant, but whether I'll be able to sit down and think about how I could write about it without having a panic attack is a different matter. I recieved this e-mail last week from my college tutor - well I'm guessing thats who it is. I haven't had my first class yet. I'm assuming this is some kind of warmup task to see what we can all do. I've been putting it off to be honest; I've never really been a poet. I ramble too much for poems; I'm a novel writer. Well, thats what I wanted to be but life got in the way. Now here I am, a 28 year old University drop out in a stuffy bedsit in Peckham, London. I look out into the evening sky, the city sounds blast through the single-glazed window. Everyone has somewhere to be, a place to go but for me life is - still. I turn my back on the window and walk towards the calender hung on the wall and mark off today's date. 6 days to go. 6 days until the course begins. A lifetime away - for me. Each day feels longer than the one before it, less eventful than the one before it, yet more painful than the one before it. I turn to sit back at the desk and read the begins of my poem.
Abuse.
By Jenna Peters
I thought I was living the dream,
With Uni,
A loving boyfriend,
I was writing novels with ease.
How wrong could I have been?
I was living a nightmare.
It was taking all my dreams.
My chest tightens; my breath quickening and the tears began to stream down my face as anxiety and panic set in. This poem; its too much. Its bringing it all back to me, its bringing him back to me. I slowly lower myself to the floor and begin to curl into ball. I cradle my weak and shaking body as my heavy, wheezing breath slows. My hysterical cries quiten and I release my knees placing my hands firmly on the wooden floor. The panic attacks are a regular occurance. It reminds me that this nightmare is still going, that I'm still suffering because of him. My thoughts are flung back to the day we met. How my life turned upside down.
