I am a published author with many years of experience writing, and this includes being published in poetry anthologies.
This does not exempt me from having gone through the same thing we all go through. Those awkward years where we are still learning to develop a skill.
This is something everyone faces when learning a new skill. There's a period of time where everything you make is total trash. Everyone has this, and it's true whether you make art, play an instrument, learn a sport... It doesn't matter. There will always be a time where looking back on what you did during that time makes you physically nauseous. It's a natural part of progression and is a good reminder that you have actually progressed. Your improvement can be defined by how visibly you cringe at your old content.
And this is as true for me as it is for anyone else.
In fact coupled with the fact that I was an Edgy Teen while in this stage, the cringe is such that thinking of my old work makes me want to throw myself into the pits of Hades. Because of this, I deleted all of my old work in a thorough cleanse that felt oddly like an exorcism. I scoured my computer clean of all evidence that I was ever the cringe-y edgelord that I actually was.
I thought that I had destroyed all the evidence...oh how wrong I was.
If anyone reading this was online in the mid-2000's they might remember a website known as Gaia Online. It was where all the cool emo kids and furries hung out and looked after virtual fish on their homepage, and shopped with Gaia currency on the Gaia ebay. Dressing up in edgy but cool outfits we wished we owned IRL, and hung out in forums. It was actually pretty fun. It was while looking back through my old profile recently, having stopped using it in like 2011, that I found it.
One poem had escaped the purge
Here's the thing, dear reader. I could have ignored that post (I can't log on to delete it orz) and moved on with my life. But I realised, this is something I made as a young teenager almost 10 years ago. It was something that took effort, and that I was proud of. I owe it to past me to save that trashy piece of cringe literature. So save it I did and I decided I would go one step further and share it with you here. Because again, everyone goes through awkward phases when they're learning something new. As much as I try to erase those parts from my life, they're still a part of my history. I will probably look back at what I'm doing now with the same unabashed horror that I exhibit towards this poem.
So without further ado, prepare to cringe.
I wish you were here,
I miss you so much.
The sound of your voice,
Softness of your touch.
You are my only,
If only you knew;
Whatever may happen,
My heart beats only for you.
