A twinge in your heart,
A tear your eye,
An unexpected goodbye,
We’ve all had them, but it’s how we handle them that makes all the difference. Some may cry like a baby, bawling their eyes out at the drop of a hat. Others, choose to act tough, stiffen that upper lip and just walk away. Then, you have those in the middle who always internalize their surroundings. From noticing a heartfelt moment at a nearby restaurant table, to feeling the crushing disappointments in your own life. Words too hard to verbally express or just too difficult to logically comprehend end up being processed through my pen.
It’s been this way for years. Even before I could officially read or write, I had this keen thirst for human observation and calculation. Resolving confusion with just a few words. Yet, with such a large family and very few friends, I felt I was seldom heard. So, I dove into music. Hearing lyrics in the notes, making them my own. Often led by inspiration and intuition, I finally understood that this was what came naturally. Music class became my haven. So, by middle school, I had learned to always keep a notebook with me. I still didn’t feel the need to be heard, so I kept it close to my heart, and no one needed to know my heart. I still have that notebook to this day. It’s served as a reminder to what’s true to me, and inspiration to continue my writing.
Fast forward to recent times, I have over 20 notebooks documenting everything from teenage broken hearts to my children’s scraped knees, and finally writing for others to see. In October, I started my own poetry page on Allpoetry to organize my old writing. It’s turned into a very creative resource, I presently have over 60 new pieces of poetry published. I’ve also joined forces with my best friend to create our own book series, Grunge Girl Diaries. It’s a collection of experienced and imagined adventures of two gypsy souls bound together by a never ending friendship. I hope to meet you all on my journeys and who knows, you may just end up being inspiration to a new story or poem.
~DeAnna Brandon April 2015