How Poets Are Made

By Ishika Kachhwaha

Who decides how you cope with a loss? Who decides how you grieve? Who decides what color should your tears be made of? Who decides what should make you scream? Some slit their veins, some parch their throats. Some create art, some break bones. Some sway in mania, some forgo their pride.

Some give in to temptations, some build their way to life. And some, put everything they know, they feel, they resist into the nib of a pen, And god, they bleed. They write, they write.

By Ishika Kachhwaha