Who am I, really? (a poem + essay [somewhat] figuring out what makes me, me)

I don’t think we realise the imprint of a name,
They tattoo our brains, how inked skin stains
As we write labels for the sum of our parts.
My name does not define me because
It will never describe me, but
To you it identifies me, and
Everything I am within my name
Is for you to decide without me.

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Becoming me

Put simply, this is a personal essay about how I became the writer I am today. I revisit some of the poems that kickstarted my journey as a writer and more specifically, a poet, and how I discovered my love for poetry. I take a look at some of the obstacles I overcame to get to where I am, and how I came to welcome my identity as a writer. Basically, it’s going to be a bit of a long one, so buckle up!

Writing is such a big part of me, so much so that I’m just not me when I’m not writing.

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