I totally did not take a criticism from a complete stranger personally (!)
I opened the webpage and asked you take your shoes off before you entered, because I like to keep the carpet clean. Help yourself to a drink, make yourself feel comfortable, whilst I dash around trying to hide dirty cups and baby photos. You were about as genuine as a Facebook memory, but I tried nonetheless. I took my best smile out to match my eyes for you. Poetry to me, as cheesy as it sounds, is connected to my bloodstream. Poetry is art, love, confusion, wonder, therapy, anger and breath etc. And you yanked it off the shelf and smashed it on the floor. Now look, I can handle constructive criticism – I invite it and respect it. What I cannot handle is a patronising stranger glancing at a collection for a brief minute, noticing one crack, one scratch, one fumble, and boldly claiming that the whole collection is mediocre bitterness at best. I mean for fuck’s sake, I can make better mocking jokes about my work than that! And now angry string has caught me and attached me to this silly comment. Now I’ve gone and proved your bloody point and written a mediocre bitter rant at best. Great. Fucking great.