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Bread and Butter
Some of these poems I wrote when I was a student both alone and lonely in the Netherlands.
Some, I wrote a couple of months ago. There are poems that do not fit me anymore and then
there are poems I am still trying to grow into. Some are about people I no longer love and
others I do not remember. I have been writing most of my life, I will continue to do so as long
as I live. I only owe honesty to my feelings; I only owe kindness to those that have been kind
to me. I will not be apologizing for the way some of these poems may ache. The truth is that
poetry doesn’t always enter everyone. It isn’t easy to sell or to get people to believe in. But
poetry, poetry is never selfish, it’s never impatient. It’s okay to not want to write sometimes.
It's okay to not want to read what you wrote out loud to others either. Poetry is personal. Just
know that the poem will wait, that the poem won’t judge you, that the poem is neither a bully
or an enemy. So here, here are the poems that waited. The ones I buried deep beneath my
own shame. The ones I may have posted but deleted quickly because the vulnerability was
too much to take at that time. This is for the feeling you get when you are hungry at a
restaurant and the waiter comes in with the bread and butter. This is to hold you, until the real
thing arrives.
Some, I wrote a couple of months ago. There are poems that do not fit me anymore and then
there are poems I am still trying to grow into. Some are about people I no longer love and
others I do not remember. I have been writing most of my life, I will continue to do so as long
as I live. I only owe honesty to my feelings; I only owe kindness to those that have been kind
to me. I will not be apologizing for the way some of these poems may ache. The truth is that
poetry doesn’t always enter everyone. It isn’t easy to sell or to get people to believe in. But
poetry, poetry is never selfish, it’s never impatient. It’s okay to not want to write sometimes.
It's okay to not want to read what you wrote out loud to others either. Poetry is personal. Just
know that the poem will wait, that the poem won’t judge you, that the poem is neither a bully
or an enemy. So here, here are the poems that waited. The ones I buried deep beneath my
own shame. The ones I may have posted but deleted quickly because the vulnerability was
too much to take at that time. This is for the feeling you get when you are hungry at a
restaurant and the waiter comes in with the bread and butter. This is to hold you, until the real
thing arrives.
31 pages, Kindle Edition
Published July 21, 2023
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