I don’t understand poetry like I think I’m meant to … particularly given that I studied it in university. I didn’t study it extensively, but I also didn’t come out with any better understanding of it than when I went in. All I got from it was that there are different types of poems, all with rules you ought to follow for it to be considered poetry, and then there’s the type of poem where it’s just a mess but is moving …? But … I already knew that from high school. All I really learnt was that I apparently don’t know how to edit poetry.

I don’t write a lot of poetry anymore. Not because university discouraged me from doing so (although they really did in a way) but because I just don’t know what to write. If it doesn’t fall out of my mouth and onto the page, it’s not ready yet.

In terms of editing poetry, I can see why I’m not good at that as I honestly don’t know how to do it to the standard that the university wants. For me, poetry was always about the rawness of it, meaning it was only to be neatened. And so I don’t ever change too much of my poems because of that. Which loses you marks in class.

I think what made it harder was that I see poetry as very much for myself, a raw expression of myself, meaning that I don’t need everyone else to understand it, and so I don’t know what I should be changing in it when I’m editing it.

But, maybe that rawness is my problem. Maybe waiting for the poem to be ready before I write it (or as I write it) is the reason I don’t know how to edit. Maybe I should brainstorm words and phrases, looking at feelings and colours, and then edit them into a nice and neat poem. Maybe that’s what I’m meant to be doing.

My poetry unit was one of the most stressful in my degree, and I think it was mostly due to being out of my element combined with being in my worst place mentally during my degree. Things had compounded outside of university and  inside, it just felt like everyone knew what was happening when I didn’t, and poetry classes were where I met the most pretentious of us “artists”. I couldn’t go back to my tutorial after the first one. The inferiority complex, built up by myself and by other students (both knowingly and unknowingly), just kept me in my box. I write poetry in about three different styles, not bothering to try with others. At university, when I had to try and meet what they wanted me to, I just forced most of it, faking my understanding and hoping my conflicted feelings would get across in something that could be considered ‘poetic’.

One thing to take from that, however, is that inexperience does not equate to inferiority: just because you’re not great at it, doesn’t mean you can’t get better at it. The real failure is when you don’t bother trying at all. Sometimes you can give something a go and find out that you’re just not naturally good at it, but you can still work hard at it and turn it into something great … and if you honestly can’t, then you at least did your best. Don’t limit yourself by what others can and can’t do (which is far easier said than done) and have a go at things you want to learn, even if your pace is a little slower than others.

I think it’s also okay to just write poetry for yourself rather than obey the way others believe it should be constructed. At the end of the day, it really honestly is an expression of feelings and ideas. And first and foremost, I write for myself.