Anne Blackwood

United States

Theatre kid
A bit empathic
A living oxymoron
WTW mom to FantasyOtter12, lochnessie & everyone
WTW sis to happy butterfly
Kindness Krusader: Blueberry cotton candy

Joined 1/16/2020

Message from Writer

For everyone who's sat on a tree branch and thought for a while
Or someone who wanted to

Currently reading | Beach Winds: An Emerald Isle, NC Novel (Book 2)

My profile picture is my "personal crest" I designed and commissioned a friend to draw. (credit: Happy Butterfly)

"There's something about being nostalgic for something you haven't left yet"
~ A Certain Type of Decisive

"I was born singing. Most babies cry. I sang an aria."
~ Fairest (book) by Gail Carson Levine

Anxiety must-reads:
And pray. That's the only reason I'm free now.

A Poet is What I Am #dramatize

May 12, 2020


I am a poet. When the spoken word fails to make its mark on the world around me, I pick up a pencil, phone, or laptop. And I write.
​Letters pour out of the chaos in my mind, and things I never knew how to say are tattooed on a page. Black against white, thoughts against judgment, me against the world.
When I was younger, I tried to mold my daydreams into prose. Grasping my fantasies with tiny toddler fingers, I told stories of horses and flying. I tried my hand at drawing, seeing if lead against printer paper would submit to my will. I have also attempted to write songs. If I sing and desire to write, shouldn't that be enough to form melodies to attract someone's ear?
One by one, artistry defied my wishes, taunting me with dancing feet, for that is something I failed at, too.
Then, I revisited a 6th grade dream I never thought would lead my heart. Stanzas erupted from my fingers, singing of heartache and forests and honey and poetry. I set myself free, letting go of the reins that tied my thoughts to my imperfections.
Poems were my happy medium, not too far to one side or the other. Where I could not tell stories with paragraphs, meter and free verse became my vessels of the times.
Messes of words have scribbled themselves into my heart, stealing it from my body so that others could read it, and I can't bring myself to take it back.
So my drama teacher wanted us to write a monologue based on personal experience. I was horrified, because how am I, a poet, supposed to tell a story through theatre, and I told her as much. She said I could write a poem instead, and what she's getting is a bit of both.

Login or Signup to provide a comment.

  • Doodleninja

    I love so many little sentences and phrases in here; you certainly have a way with words! One of my faves is "I tried my hand at drawing, seeing if lead against printer paper would submit to my will".

    replying: no prob. Thanks for entering my contest!

    5 months ago
  • Emi

    Even though this is kind of prose, it is also so poetic it could completely be a poem.

    5 months ago
  • Madelyn (Carolina Girl)

    I love this!!!!

    5 months ago
  • joella

    this is great!!

    5 months ago