Creative Process

What I learned about the creative process...

It felt like sitting in solitude with myself and eventually choosing to listen as I was writing this spoken word. It began with a sensation—the physical, emotional, mental, and spiritual burden of being the only one in the room. It's the type of loneliness that makes noise in its silence. I wanted to convey the feeling of being alone when you had no audience, no mask, and no one else to act for but yourself. At first, I fought it. The blank page felt like a mirror I wasn’t ready to look into. But the more I leaned into that discomfort, the more the words started to flow. Not perfectly — more like fragments, pieces of thoughts, confessions, memories, echoes. I let the silence speak, and I wrote down what it said.

The writing itself felt like peeling something back. I didn’t rush it. Sometimes I’d sit with a single line for hours, just letting it breathe. Other times, it poured out like I had been holding it in for years. I tried to be honest, raw — not just about the loneliness, but the power in it too. The realization that when you're the only one in the room, you also get to be the loudest voice, the clearest truth.

This poem became a conversation between the version of me that feels isolated, and the version of me that feels infinite. And somewhere in the writing, those two started to merge.