It's been hard to find my muse since you left
You were the source of so many of my poems even though I tried so hard to deny it time after time
I realized when you were around I was drinking profusely
and my drunken brain finds poetry to be great company
just personal enough to offer comfort but just distant enough from physical contact
poetry doesn't look me in the eye shaking my shoulder until I snap out of it
poetry lets me sit in this shallow puddle in-between of swirling emotions the English language never bothered to name
So my muse hasn't been here much since you haven't
but my depression hasn't been here much either
nor my anxiety
I stayed constant without you here
its kinda funny, huh? I have you to thank for the rise of me
but I also have you to thank for my downfall
I'm finding my muse again--
this time without you
and this poetry will be that much more beautiful
watch out
she has risen from her ashes