I am an artist and you are a muse,
you **** for coke while I drown in *****.
I sketch out my fantasies, paint all my dreams,
reject all good reason for hopes that would seem
like the thoughts of a madman to anyone boring,
but I watch it happen till 4 in the morning
in my head as I play it out time after time,
what should I have said, what was going through your mind
when just two weeks before, we spent hours in your bed,
then your chair which then led
to the wall and your floor where you begged me for more
then you turned back your head, said I'm so ******* wet
that it's dripping down my leg.

But when passion was spent and gave way to exhaustion,
we lay there entwined, not a thought went to caution.
My arms held you close before you took my hands
and wrapped up my fingers with yours, as the bands
on your phone played us music to be just a background
as we talked for hours and then laughed as I found
that I could have stayed in that moment.

This time, two weeks later, that moment is gone,
like it never existed, I hope that I'm wrong,
but you seem to already have made up your mind
that you don't want to try and repeat the same kind
of day that we shared just two weeks before,
now I fear that I've fallen for simply a *****.
Did you try to deceive me? I'm just not quite sure,
for the last time I saw you it truly felt more
than a meaningless hookup.

But you are a beautiful, self obsessed muse,
I forgot that it's just in your nature to use
all the poor souls like me who fall head over heels
for your empty shelled beauty that easily steals
away all sense of reason.

But thank you for giving me this inspiration,
this outlet for me to pour all my emotion
that's trapped up inside that I usually can't find
the right voice to express it, it's not just a choice
for an artist to sit down to write or to paint
the next work that they have to get out 'fore they faint
from the feeling of heartbreak or something as simple
as the joy that we feel when we see the dimple
appear on your cheek when that smile comes across
your face and it purely leaves us at a loss
for words.

There's nothing worse than spending every second thinking about someone, knowing that they're not spending a second thinking about you.

But I am an artist, what else can I do?