Each poem starts with a question — although not necessarily stated explicitly, but rather felt. Sometimes it is what makes the memory painful to revisit, or what silence wants to reveal.
For me, poetry is much more about posing questions than providing answers.
In every poem, I ask myself:
Is it truth or nostalgia?
Am I remembering my experience or reconstructing my past to make it easier to deal with?
Is there life in this line?
Or is it forced rhythm without emotional flow?
Who is this poem addressed to?
A particular person, a part of myself, an unfinished dialogue?
Who does this poem belong to?
Is it only mine, or can anyone see themselves in it?
What am I going to keep silent about?
Since each poem has something hidden in it, whether it is a pause in the middle of the sentence or a withheld admission or a name left out.
Poetry is a conversation with myself between what I know and what I’m afraid to say out loud.
Each revision reveals things beyond what I have written.
Maybe it is precisely that question I need to ask myself while writing every poem:
Am I courageous enough to write honestly?
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