#2506

Sound up 🔊! Someone was playing the violin on the subway :)

I bought a poetry book yesterday; Swimming Lessons by Lili Reinhart. And... honestly? I kind of hate it.

The cover is perfect. It came with a little card inside which makes for a pretty bookmark, and it has that new book smell. I didn't find anything bad about it online - good reviews only, actually. But the poems themselves felt like Rupi Kaur, yk?

Lovely lines of three to five words on love and some boy that did stupid shit

I can read about heartbreak, sadness, love - I can and have written about it in detail -, but poetry like this, relatable and easy to digest, doesn't make me feel anything. Reading it is like scrolling down a feed; you may get a sparkle of "oh yeah, I get that emotion", but it's so short and straight to the point that you just go to the next one without taking a piece of it with you.

I feel like poetry that really touches the heart is that which you spend time trying to get the meaning of it, to picture the scene it describes, to feel the ache or the sentiment the writer tried to put to paper. You have to spend time with it - tracing the words with your fingertips and feeling that dull need to smile or cry or get up and tell someone about it. To maybe forget about it and not be able to recite any line from it, but still carry that little glimmer with you, wherever you go.

STOP SEE VER

cities