Just A Small Town Girl…

Since before I can remember, maybe circa 2000 perhaps, I’ve always dealt with death in a certain way.

Whenever someone close to me has passed, I’ve written a poem about them. Nothing fancy, just the bare bones of how that person made me feel and what I cherished most about them.

I’ve always abided by 3 rules when writing these poems:

1) It has to rhyme

2) It must be handwritten in my Tweety Pie notebook

3) I have to start it with the date that the person passed and end it with my signature.

The last rule has been observed more for consistency than anything else if I’m being completely honest with you – most likely 10 year old me just wanted an excuse to scribble her signature on paper for the novelty of it all, but nevertheless I respect her formatting choices and stand by them to this day.

My Tweety Pie notebook has accumulated about 10 such poems over the years. Each one so different to the next. Some pages are spluttered with tear stains, others have a mixture of blue and black ink where the quality of pen number one clearly didn’t cut it. Some make me smile when I read them back, while others transport me back in time to feelings of sadness. 

It’s become a time vault of some sorts. With my handwriting getting progressively messier with each entry! My chosen form of therapy that gives me closure and helps me say my goodbyes without any fear of judgment, straight from the heart. ❤