Rumours...

 You sat across from me  

with metal glinting  

off your skin.  

Ben, I knew your name but it was  

as if it didn't matter.  

What syllables wrapped around  

your face?  

You whispered rumors  

like venom dripping from a wound,  

with love from Iris.  

Said they called me the rat chaser,  

said Iris spun tales about me  

in places I'd never been.  

I laughed it off  

because Iris, with your piercings  

and your reckless tongue,  

who could believe  

the web you spun?  

But then a stranger's eyes  

sliced through the crowd,  

found mine  

as if they knew  

the secrets I had yet to know,  

as if they had seen  

the chase I had run.  

Rat chaser, they called me,  

like it was a name  

I'd always worn.  

And in that moment,  

Ben's whispers  

became knives  

twisting into truths  

I could no longer doubt.  

I walked away  

from your glinting eyes,  

from the weight of rumours  

Iris had formed,  

turning my steps  

heavy and unsure.  

Because in the end,  

the truth is a whisper  

and a shout  

and everything in between. 

The Emotional Journey Behind Rumours...

Writing poetry has always been a cathartic experience for me, a way to unravel the tangled mess of emotions and thoughts that often plague my mind. Recently, I found myself embroiled in a situation that left me feeling particularly vulnerable and misunderstood, and so I turned to poetry once again to make sense of it all. The result was the poem you see above, titled Rumours...

The Genesis of Rumours

It all started with a casual encounter with Ben, someone who hangs around town and seems to know everyone’s business. We were sitting across from each other, and the sunlight caught the metal on his skin—piercings that seemed to glint ominously as he spoke. Ben told me that my ex, Iris, had been spreading rumors about me. Initially, I brushed it off, thinking, Who could believe Iris with her reckless tongue?

But then something unsettling happened. Strangers began to look at me differently, their eyes slicing through the crowd as if they knew secrets about me that I was yet to discover. The nickname rat chaser began to follow me around like an unwanted shadow amongst other way worse rumours. I mean at least the rat chasing was technically true. The whispers that Ben had casually let slip transformed into knives, cutting through the fabric of my identity.

Confronting the Pain

When I first sat down to write Rumours..., I was overwhelmed with emotions: anger, betrayal, sadness, and confusion. I felt like my world was crumbling, and I was losing control over how people perceived me. The poem became a means to confront these feelings head-on.

The metaphor of rat chaser and the imagery of Ben's glinting eyes became central to expressing my sense of betrayal and the burden of carrying someone else's lies. Writing about Iris, her piercings, and her reckless tongue allowed me to channel my frustration. It was a way to articulate the hurt without direct confrontation, a necessary outlet for my pain.

The Uncertain Path Forward

As I wrote the final lines, I felt a sense of liberation but also a heavy realisation. The weight of the rumours and the truths they twisted into had indeed made my steps heavy and unsure. I couldn't change what Iris had said or how people viewed me, but I could choose to walk away from it. The poem ends on a contemplative note, recognizing that the truth is a whisper and a shout and everything in between.

This emotional journey taught me the importance of self-acceptance and the need to find peace within myself, regardless of external perceptions. Writing Rumours... was not just about recounting an incident; it was about reclaiming my narrative and finding the strength to move forward, despite the rumors.

Final Thoughts

Writing this poem was an essential step in my healing process. It allowed me to give form to my feelings and gain a sense of closure. If you've ever been the subject of rumors or felt misunderstood, I hope my words offer some comfort and solidarity. Remember, your truth is yours to hold, no matter how others might try to distort it.

Thank you for taking the time to read about my journey. If you've had similar experiences or have found solace in writing, I'd love to hear your thoughts and stories. Let's continue to support each other in navigating the complex emotional landscapes of our lives.

With love and resilience,

Aspen