first you must starve,
you need to wait until the words pour out of you in a fiery horrid blaze
they need to drain you of all emotion
leaving your chalice empty after you pour its contents on the page
they need to reflect the pain you feel inside
then they need to make you relive it
see it over and over
and make others who read it feel the same
maybe that's true
but maybe, just maybe
these words can heal
they can be the outlet for pain
a place to keep all of the bad so you can feel good
maybe the happier poems are accompanied by depressed poets
maybe the depressed horrible poems are where the true happiness is from.
