I am working on a poetry chapbook. I now have a draft of the intro to the book — very rough, but I thought I’d share.
It’s about love and memory, loss and forgiveness.
What does it mean to be forgiven? What does it mean to be forsaken? Can you ever truly forgive or forsake someone? Is loss permanent?
What does it mean to live on the edges of society? What do the edges look like? Can someone safe in the middle of their society ever truly understand someone on the margins? What does it feel like to be catapaulted from the middle to the edge? What does it feel like to put yourself there? If you are on the margins, can you get back to the middle? Do you want to?