Muse

When I write, my mind takes a moment. I exhale in the moment of silence. I need this moment several times a day. Writing about you has become exhausting. The thought of you is constant.
It’s pathetic. I know better. I think about you more and then all l the ways I crave you.
It’s frustrating. I am unable to have you when I want you.
Catastrophe. I don’t want to give you up, I don’t need you.
I feel like I do. Then I tell my heart to shut up.
I wouldn’t leave him… but he can leave me.
I can wake up and he’ll be gone. This thought rattles me inside.
He’s the reason my pen bleeds.
Until my heart breaks.

J.Saunders, Monday Ramble 2016

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