I wonder why I tend to gravitate to poetry that is a bit dark? I have really given this a lot of thought.
I think there are pieces of ourselves that we lose through time. What’s lost is replaced with memories, wisdom and strength. We mourn what we have lost in ourselves. Which is natural. Every wrong done to us, every heartache, every loss. We see things in a new light which helps us understand the dark better.
Allowing ourselves to be taken in by dark poetry is allowing ourselves to feel a moment in time. We relate. It isn’t dwelling. It isn’t holding onto negativity. It’s a type of bonding and healing and releasing.
All that being said, my own poetry tends to be a bit dark. It flows easily for me. Happy, cheery poetry is much harder for me. I have tried. I’m just not as pleased with the finished product of these poems.
I love to write poetry. To take pieces of different experiences and meld all the different emotions they evoke and then release them by putting pen to paper. It’s more than just writing for me. So much more. Maybe I shouldn’t question why I gravitate to darker poetry. It’s what I like. It intrigues me. It captivates me. Maybe it’s just that simple. We like what we like, we are who we are and it is what it is.