I don't know what's so **** poetic
About drinking black coffee
And being depressed
What's so 'sad yet beautiful'
About crying in the rain
Because nothing about the hurt
Is beautiful
It's ******* pain
In your chest.
It's a sick stomach
And it's not eating at all
Or eating too much.

Nothing, nothing
Is poetic about it.
It's not beautiful.

It's ugly.
And it's there.
And it won't ******* leave,
No matter what you
Write about it.