my best poems
thrive in my depression
as if creativity only blossoms in sadness
as if beauty can only be found in darkness
as if light can only shine in decay

and I guess that’s why
rainbows come after clouds sob
and I guess that’s why
praise is given after death claims an artist
long gone before their flowers are given

much like 
how coping hurts before you heal
an offbeaten path to recovery 

much like 
how my poetry, often written in negativity 
is reborn in essence of hope