Pain is not poetic
It’s the thing that triggers your stimulus
That tells you to make art out of your misery
So whatever I write in my moments of melancholy are not that of the melancholy
But an illustration of my heart & soul in these moments
This is recuperation.
A time to glue back the broken and unhinged
Divide the time between dancing & dying
Laughing & loathing
Kissing & kicking
Whether it be a delicious need for greed or approval from the ones that are not your league
Your expectations that weren’t so great and shattered on the grounds of realism
This a time to show your pain
Be in pain
But don’t let your words be pain.
Pain is the reason.
But pain is not the poetry.
