My Muse

She appears only now and then. Now that I don't see her as much inspiration is sparse. For any of you who kept up with my poems earlier on would know that my poems followed a certain theme. Whether or not that theme was the girl, the process, the feelings, who knows. I thought I was safe from her, but every now and then she just appears, sparking hatred, sadness, love, romance, etc.

"Her eyes light up like fireflies, touch down to the ground to light the night, then right back up to bright the sky."

The night and day she brings, and I'm left in the dark as she goes. I don't know where I'm going, what my direction is. Odd. I don't even know why she means so much to me. We have so much history I don't know where to begin, and I won't. Something about hugging her again just makes me feel weird.

"To tear my heart apart and repair it again, the seamstress of my life and everything it's in. The healing touch her hands will give, but God it makes it hard to live."

I don't know what it is, this is three nights in a row for me blogging, and I'm beginning to get a little worried. I don't like venting this much, I'm not used to it.

"I thought I'd end on a progressive note, but if anything I know I'm staying right here. For as long as I walk this Earth alone, I want to spend it with you here."