Saturday, 23 May 2009

• Dear Muse,

  http://myhomeiswriting.xanga.com/633571761/no-expression-no-emotion-but-the-words-come-anywaywheres-the-passion/

  You drank your fill
  and left me with an empty soul;
  left me with veins running dry.
  You fly in under cover of night,
  take seat at the head of my bed
  and whisper softly inside my ear-
  whispering sweet nothings I love to hear.
  Then you drink your fill,
  you take your taste,
  and fly into the moonlight;
  your bloated belly satiated with
  my blood,
  my love,
  my life,
  my words-
  the essence of me,
  the poet within.
  So sweet you are,
  with your lovely words
  and crushing embrace;
  but what a theif you are,
  stealing from a child's heart-
  what gives you the right?
  Why do I let you in my window every night?
  Your words are lies, your words are mine,
  but I've let you claim them as your own,
  I've let you claim me as your own.

  • 11:52 PM
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