Beauty

Everyone says that pain comes with beauty
But isn’t the real question we need to ask ourselves is
Is it actual beauty or is it the illusion of beauty
Would the beauty you see be the beauty I see
Or would it change indefinitely
But the pain
That part is no illusion
It’s as if the beauty you see is your own demise
The thing that is of the most beauty is ultimately the thing that kills you
Some say that if you’re strong enough you can handle the pain
But that’s a lie it might not physically kill you
But what it does to you emotionally is unspeakable
The way it changes you
And warps you into this twisted image of rage and sadness
That no one knows what to do with
That’s only part of the reality
The rest is incomprehensible