This is a philosophy class wrapped up in a poem. Speechless. More.. please

for most poets and artists, creating seems almost like the remedy and poison for the sorrows that they've faced; writing is a catharsis, relieving misery to create something beautiful, but while these scars may have been buried long ago, do these same creators pick at them again and again to bleed this strange kind of beauty? if you put a piece of yourself into each creation, then to an extent, being a creator must be suffering; does this make you a sort of god, ruler yet slave to everything in the three pounds of brain tissue in your head?

in summation:

"to be a poet or an artist must be an ailment in itself; dissecting misery to shape it into a beautiful arrangement."

i'm looking forwards to reading more of your poems.