How Does It Know When A Poem Is Accidental? Does It Know Context?

how does it know when a poem is accidental? does it know context?

and so you and i are two oranges in the same bag at the store

I heard once that art is an ad for what the soul wants

How does feel for you to create art?

I was talking with a friend recently and the topic of the conversation was, quote-unquote, self abuse through art.

And i noticed.

We feel our creation processes differently.

For her, it was like turning frustrated tears into a river from which drink thirsty deer. It’s pouring out resentment and loneliness and anger at how she was wronged.

For me, it’s more like reopening healing wounds and turning the blood beautiful. I use more sadness and mourning and fear. Almost like an apology. Almost like a quiet story told at dawn. It feels like pleading.

And it all got me curious, artists and writers and poets, how does it feel like for you?

Please don’t hesitate reblogging your experience, i want to know all.

(Also, it doesn’t have to be about everything you’ve ever written, just a general vibe or a theme you find yourself returning to often)

A dystopian sci-fi where the “opressed” cave dwellers rise up only to find out the city-people had no idea they were there and are more than willing to help.

really factual recounting with no embellishments whatsoever

Streamers say 'mods' the same way a medieval lord would say 'guards'