When a poet writes pretty words
It is colorful and ethereal in its own sense
It is art
But when a poet feels too much
And can't even paint the picture
With a stroke
When the poet finally just says
"Im so fucking hurt"
It is when you realize
That the poet was no swirling entity
Putting color to all flowers
Connecting random stars into constellations
But only human
only human
That cracks
And breaks
And can only say the most basic feeling
With the most weight
With the most weep
With the most honesty
From "the cracks on my skull is breaking open"
To
"Im just so fucking hurt"
Thats when you will realize
That even the simplest pain
And being simply human
Is art itself
