A poet's heartache

By Vrischika Kotak

hopeless romantics

with flowers growing out

of our lungs

hopeless romantics

drinking poison

that burns our tongues.

oh us,

us stupid, stupid poets,

and our stupid, stupid words,

and all these pages

and how we turn the worst pain

into loving hurt.

giving into fires

that burn our hearts to ash,

striving to build up walls

so we don't get attached,

but we live in our heads a little too much

to face reality,

doubting our mortality,

turning to insanity,

so when reality tingles

we turn it into poetry, hence immortality.

when you break a poet's heart

you turn into something unforgettable,

but you'll never know

if it's you, or would you?

because even after all the pain,

somehow the light always shines through,

and we survive

to morph you into something graceful.

you could rip out our brains

and take em with you

take out our sanity

and go for a run

stomp all over our hearts

and walk away,

but a poet's heartache

will always turn you into

something exquisite,

something very,

you.

By Vrischika Kotak