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You were my Shakespearean muse, you wrote sonnets with your bare fingers that wont be reprized until we are no more. we created ballets with our hearts, and ryhme with our reason, see, we made music whereever we were. You were poetry, and I... another tragic poet awaiting my chance to create with the same feeling I had when I began. My pen sits alone at nights now under the stars we used to share; screaming for me to hold it again and i'm no good with embracement these days.  This is me...stumbling through words like a new born far from the poet I once was. Without my muse, i am only a man. Mortality is as frightening as lost love and acceptance is harder to come by than aliens yet i am still blinded by your light, even with all this space and emptiness. I dont even think this is a poem anymore. Shakespear would agree im sure. *shrug*

Author's Note

random writing i wrote after a break up. first time i tried to write and this is what came out. i look back now and laugh but then...i thought i died lmao

Reviews

[Rachael Lea]

I am sorry for the hurt feelings. They tug on my heart. All writers have experienced this at some point. Some just put the pen down for a while others force something to come anything that they can work on and baby and sometimes those works turn into their favorites while other times they become something retched that we hate.

[Alias]

i love the honesty, there are some inconsistencies/spelling mistakes but I think that's in the spirit of he poem. There are some really lovely, well crafted sentences in here

[fierceauthor]

Yes indeed ..harlem please inbox me about this one

[A hare off]

it does feel that way when your heart is empty. no one to write for, nothing to write about. i know this pain, you have shown it well in your poem.

[harlem_knight]

Thank you for your review. It is a sense of emptiness creatively. That or obsession which can feel the same way at times.

[anonymousprankt]

should i say? "what goes around comes back around"

[harlem_knight]

Exactly! Thanks for the review