Musa
What will I do?
My muse has left.
And I can no longer see clearly,
Or write continuously unless she’s the subject.
I envision her in shades of blue
Synonymous with my melancholy.
Yearning for her return,
Yet aware she won’t be back.
The crime of fate feels worse than the crime she has committed against me.
But what’s worse?
My muse has disappeared
And I no longer adore her.
This feeling is worse than the death of us.
How can I lose regard for her?
She was grand and gracious in every breath
And I worship her every step.
I love her ferociously
But I wish I didn’t.
Her beauty marks that I once kissed
So she can have more in a different life,
That was one of my favorite qualities
Will never be kissed again.
Her smile I recognize in everyone
That told me stories with a simple smirk
That kept my eyes occupied.
Will no longer be seen ear to ear.
Her cheeks that were full and pink,
But turn crimson in the heat
Making her youthful
Have lost color.
The eyes that filled my dreams
Were russet brown
And held me captive as a prisoner to a cell
Have now gone blank.
Her lips that perfectly fit mine
Were as soft as her voice
But as desperate for mine like a stray for a bone
Have now grown cold.
Her hair that would find its way on my clothes
That grew lighter in the summer
That I ran my fingers through as she rested on my shoulder
Has lost its silky shine.
Her hands that warmed mine
Like a moth to a flame
And fit like a missing piece to a puzzle
Has lost the sensation of touch.
Her arms that wrapped around me tightly,
Ideal for dancing with me,
That found themselves around my waist
Have now found their place by her side.
Her long legs that followed me everywhere,
That were alluring to me
Have now led her the opposite way.
Her heart that made mine feel alive
And made me believe in love
I can no longer hear.
My heart is miserable
And questioning why I wasn’t enough
Since our first day
To fully have her love.