Poetry + Expression: Words Written by India Tungate

These beautiful words were written by our friend India Tungate of Story Brook Photography. She submitted this poem as an assignment within the course, “The Art of Poetry & Expression” by Sarah Driscoll and we fell in love with her honesty and mood. We love the idea of tying all sorts of self expression within the Academy and believe strongly that digging deep in many artistic forms will help you become a better overall artist.

The assignment is as followed:

Begin the assignment with "word vomit." This is a term that I use which probably makes me odd but I love. What I mean by it is: allow the words to flow through you while you write. Do not allow yourself to slow down or feel guilt over them. Just write without remorse.

For this assignment, please begin by thinking of something that makes you FEEL – whether that be a person, a moment, a setting, or an experience. 

From there, I would like you to paint a portrait or an image with words. Write as vividly and beautifully as possible. Do not overthink a single thing. Just start spewing out words and allowing yourself to speak freely and feel the depths of your vision. 

Describe what you see, feel, smell, taste, touch. Tangle words together to create an image in your reader's imagination. Leave them with a vision.

Now that you know what was asked of India, please take a moment to see her self portraits and hear her words. Thank you for your bravery India. We love having you here at Unraveled.


I'm trapped

In a forest of self doubt

It clenches my body like a mass of vines

Building a tangled wall around me

I stand alone

Wrapped in it's forceful grip

Without a machete to cut me loose

The more I fight

The tighter it becomes

I feel myself become weaker

And I give in to the stillness of doubt

But just when I start to feel defeated

I pray one last time

I pour my soul out to God

I scream for help

I beg for guidance

And just like that

God's ray of light shines through

Suddenly I can feel my strength return

As  he speaks to me in a whisper

In my hand

Is a faithful machete

And I began to slash against the vines

Fighting my way free from it's grasp.

— India Tungate

Sarah DriscollComment