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Isabel Hidalgo

If you don't learn to write your own story, someone else will write it for you

2 poems·Since September 2014

I love to write And sing

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An Explosion

June 21, 2016

I'm not sure, exactly, when the words came--
When the thunder and the sound and the fury became an
Explosion.

 


But it happened and when it did-- 
When I found the whirlwind inside of me, I felt, in a way,
Broken. 

 


It was a feeling I had never really felt--
I was shattered like so many shards of glass but at the same time, I was
Whole. 

 

There is a sort of purity to this written screaming--
A sort of spiritual awakening that makes one feel
Alive. 
 

There is a point to be made with the words in my brain--
A circular, infinite, locus of points that I can't stop and that will never
Die. 
 

So, given the choice, I have chosen to have a voice--
To use my voice and it's loud, brash quality to give something to this
World.
 

I have chosen to give something to this world--
To this world that has given me chaos, brutality, indifference, 
Nothing.  
 

And I won't know--
Certainly, I will not know if I was right to give so much--

 

Or if I was wrong. 

 



 

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