The Muse & Her Demons

I waited for him.

Everywhere I went, I looked…. I waited to see his face in the crowd.

So many years had gone by, and still I hoped.

Then,  one day, I realized that I had stopped looking.
And it broke my heart.
So I began to look again.

I knew that I loved him when I said goodbye.
That’s why I had to let him go.


My love for him was strong. It was powerful and beautiful and mad.
I wanted him so deeply, and I needed him like a drug.
He was my obsession, my addiction.
But I had no business taking him.
He was not mine, and I could never be his.

Part of me wanted to believe that I would stop, or that I could bury it enough to never think about it again.
But I kept looking for him.

Another part of me…

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