People often ask me why so many of my poems tangle love and pain together like barbed wire and roses. Why does the sweetness always seem to carry a sting? Why, even in the softest lines, there’s a shadow hanging just behind the sun. And my answer is simple:
Because That’s How I’ve Lived It.
Love, in my world, has never come dressed in white. It comes in muddy boots, with trembling hands and broken promises. It comes late, sometimes drunk, sometimes desperate, but still somehow beautiful. And pain? Pain doesn’t wait for its turn. It shows up in the middle of the dance, taps love on the shoulder, and cuts in.
You Can’t Separate Them in Real Life
I don’t separate them in my writing because I can’t separate them in life. The truth is, I’ve learned more about who I am, my strength, my softness, my fury, through the heartbreaks than the honeymoons. Some of the deepest love I’ve ever felt came wrapped in grief, in goodbye, in holding on too long. And I’m not afraid to write about that.
When I put together Hillbilly Tales, I didn’t sit down to write a “pretty” poetry book. I wanted it to feel real, like the country road you drive down at night with the windows down and the radio turned up, knowing full well you might cry before the second chorus. I wanted readers to feel seen, especially the ones who’ve loved hard and gotten burned but still went back for more.
Love & Pain Both Speak the Same Language
Love and pain, they speak the same language. They both live in the gut. They both make you forget how to breathe. And they both leave marks, whether we want them to or not.
Now, don’t get me wrong. Not every poem is tragic. Some are full of fire, laughter, and lust. I write about sex like I write about sorrow, with the same urgency and honesty. Because all of it, every kiss, every fight, every goodbye, every moan, is part of the human mess. And I happen to think that mess is worth writing about.
The Mess Is Worth Writing About
I’ve always said I’m not here to be neat. I’m here to be honest.
So yeah, in my poems, love and pain often show up holding hands. That’s just the truth of where I come from: back roads, bad decisions, and big hearts that break a little every time they open.
And maybe, if my words help someone else feel a little less alone in their own tangled love stories… well, then the pain was worth it.
Thanks for listening.
– Maddie
