I have barely written any poetry. I am looking through my files and the numbers are dismal.
I started the year off by writing one poem.
I wrote six poems in March.
Four in May.
And so far four in June.
I’m trying to think positive. When I list them out like that it doesn’t seem so bad, but when I compare to how prolific I was in my previous years I feel like I’m being lazy and not putting my all into it.
Perhaps I’m being too hard on myself? I feel like I should have gotten back on track by now. After the death of my grandmother, I gave myself time to grieve though I was still writing. Even that eventually dried up.
I need to be kinder to myself I suppose. I know I do, but I’m such a cruel mistress.