The Art of Unloving

The Art of Unloving

The art of unloving is

the most delicate of surgeries.

It requires a steady hand & focused

determination to spend hours tediously

removing the years of built up feelings.

Sometimes the harmful nostalgia

brings tears and fears that the heart

cannot be healed, but the hindrance of

disbelief only causes the surgery to

proceed endlessly. And sometimes

the unloved tries to stuff feelings

back in where they don���t fit or belong.

Don���t make the mistake of being

afraid to move on because

the art of unloving like all great art

takes time and attention. And, sometimes,

revision. So, just remember,

it���s important to wash your hands

before any important surgery so

before you begin the art of unloving

take care to wash your hands carefully

so an area, once cleaned,

won���t be re-infected and you won���t

return to a space that was unaffected

by your presence. The art of unloving

allows healthy remission of diseased

feelings, so what once affected you

won���t be able to make you sick anymore.

Begin the art of unloving with care

and precision and never self-doubt

your ability to complete the surgery.

Because once the pain is gone,

you���ll finally be able to move on

to a place where unloving has no

voice or place. And that���s where the

loving can finally begin.

Day 22 of the challenge and I’m loving this. Not every poem was at its best, but because I agreed to do this challenge, it has made me pay attention more. To everything. Because I know that tomorrow another poem must be written, so I’m always looking and listening, trying to tap into inspiration for my next poem. National Poetry Month! I love it baby!!!

It’s my hope that at the end of the 30 days, I will continue to tap into that source that helps me create, that helps me see stories that others cannot or will not see, without me creating the story and placing it before them. Because how do you know you’re a writer? You know you’re a writer when you write because you can’t not write. You know you’re a writer when, quite simply, you write.

Peace & Love,

Rosalind