Why Creative Writing is so Therapeutic for Me

Do you have any goals for your blog? I’m not sure if I do. While I dream of making income off my writing, I don’t have any solid plans to do so. And I must admit, I don’t have much of a mind for business.

I started this blog in 2016 with the simple goal of sharing things that interested me – my poetry, fiction, books I’ve read, etc. So far, I’ve stayed pretty close to my original intent. And that brings me to the purpose of this post: to discuss why creative writing is so therapeutic to me.

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The Fortune-Teller (flash fiction)

Here’s a piece of flash fiction about a fortune-teller and a naïve young man. It’s about 460 words and has an estimated reading time of about 2 minutes. Let me know what you think!

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Because I Miss You (a poem)

The world spins, but you’re no longer here
Over these years, I’ve shed many tears
Because I miss you

When you were with us, you drove me crazy
Now that you’re gone, my mind is hazy
Because I miss you

I didn’t know what grief would be like
I’ve never felt so downtrodden before
I continue to gripe about your loss
I’ve pushed the feelings down to my core
Because I miss you

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No One Listens to the Prophet (a poem)

The prophet travels through the mountains
Reading the desolate landscape for signs
She misses her family dearly
She had to leave them all behind

The prophet had to go on a great journey
And warn the people of coming dangers
Recently she’s begun to worry
Of her society’s rapid changes

The people have lapsed into sin
And we all know what happens next
The great flood will soon begin
And wipe everyone off the map

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Is Nothing Sacred Anymore? (a poem)

Is nothing sacred anymore?
Or have we talked about this before?
I can’t remember

Tall shadows in the courtyard of my mind
Were designed to keep me confined
To the dust of civilization and its embers

Don’t act like you’ve never done it
The asylums where you commit
Your killing-spree benders

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Hauntings in the Dawn (a poem)

Ghosts in this house make no sound
They are only around to watch
Flashing images of my mind
And extract memories from times
I dwell in forsaken chambers

They belabor the process of death
Let’s get it over with, we say,
Let’s kill these emotions during
The bright light of the day –
Instead of waiting for fire-soaked
Nights under harvest moons
And pastures of bitter gloom

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The Life of a Shaman (flash fiction)

Here’s a piece of fantasy flash fiction about a young boy, a shaman, and destiny. It’s about 740 words and has an estimated reading time of 3 minutes. Let me know what you think!

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Before the Altar, We Pray (a poem)

Before the altar, we pray
To gods of the forest-night
They hear us in our anguish

Remove us from televised carnage
And mass murder of dreams
In America, nothing is as it seems

We trek to the forest at nightfall
By light of neon and longing
It smells of fire-smoke and dust

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