“I’ve been all drained of inspiration,
There is no stimulation;
My love is beginning to fail,
My muse is bleeding so much poetry,
But I can’t cup my hands and hold
Onto the musings to slowly feed upon it.
I want to tear my eyes out
For feeling so dissatisfied and blaming
Myself,  you and then myself,
After all this time.
I DON’T LOVE HIM, I DON’T LOVE HIM!
My brain screams as he arrives
And plays all the songs I have ever loved
But then he gives me a sweet smile,
And my heart settles and gently,
Whispers over all the indecision,
Silly girl, of course you love him but
You just really hate yourself for it.”