Of Muses And Other Ghosts
Should I Make My Poem Resemble A War
'You're too close to my heart, you monster.
I want you to turn away, and die,
as far away as you possibly can.
I'm not like you, I'm not ugly,
and don't you dare hate me,
for my sins, for leaving my heart stray
nude, in other's palms.
It's god that made you, hard to love
by giving you, such a misshaped face.'
And I left, to catch my breath.
I took my ink, and spilled it here,
where her eyes are blind
where her fingers, cannot touch
my beautiful heart.
Should I make my poem resemble a war
just because she left me,
for another's warm sheets?
Should I dip my pen in blood, to make my verses red
just because she chose another hand to hold?
Maybe I should, but I won't.
I filled too many poems with her, already
so. I'm just gonna stop.
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