But then I go to put it down into word and it fades from me. Oh my muse come back to me. Quit whispering. It's making me insane. Fucking. Insane. It makes me want to make love to you while slicing though your throat with a warm butter knife. Tell me muse do you have a throat? Or are you just that voice in my head. Don't go away stay. I'm sorry I won't kill you come out. Come on. You create the monster that I am. I got an idea we can create a character and kill them together! Would you like that muse? Just stop hiding whenever I face this blank screen. My thoughts are too cluttered without you needing to write when I can't and can't when I write. Look at me you've got me rambling like a fucking madman. All I know is I was born with you.
YOU ARE READING
Forever Wishing
PoetryA collection of poetry, usually written when I can't describe what is in my head. My poetry is for me and helps clear things up a bit. I sincerely hope it sparks something in reading it, it does in me writing it. Enjoy Forever Wishing. My mind, poe...
