Muse

Fast-paced…

(Only at times)

But when it’s too slow…

I feel empty

(How could you leave me?)

All alone?

Yes I am.

I’m not used to –

Senseless pacing

Senseless arguing

Senseless efforts

Senseless – EVERYTHING!!!

F.R.U.S.T.A.T.I.O.N.

I’m not good enough -

(No, it’s alright…)

There are too many people out there

Better than me

Who work harder than me

Who have more patience than me

Who don’t give up as much as I do

(But are you pouring your soul into this?

Word per word

Piece by piece)

Yes…

(Then it’s alright,

That’s all that matters)

But in case this doesn’t work out –

I’ll have my backup plan

(Then you’ve lost)

I don’t want to lose

(You’ve quit before you even entered the game)

Maybe I don’t want to waste everything

Maybe I need more than my words

Maybe I need food on the table

Maybe I just need to –

Just write…

Just feel

(Shhh… the artist has her paint and easel

The writer has her pen

It’s not any harder than actually trying to survive in life)

Yes, survival

And only times like this

When I can paint the world as my own

When that door isn’t just a door

When dreaming is just as exciting as being awake

(Because you have eyes,

And you’ve noticed the beauty

The joy

The pain

The hardships

The glory

Belief… resurrection… salvation

The life of those nameless, faceless commuters

And sing-song fantasies)

Because you know that a mirror isn’t just a mirror

And you try to look further into it, just to figure out its mystery

(If I close my eyes, will my reflection do the same?)

Or is there a world inside there, unknown to me

Meant to be unknown to me

What if the people we watch in that blinking idiot-box actually watch us back?

(They’re laughing at us right now…)

Now go to sleep…

And dream…

Of darkness and dreams

Of tears and cheers

(Then you can write about all of them tomorrow)

Ok…

If you say so…

(A/N: I’m entering this into a contest in dA. The subject was to describe your muse, or what behind your art. Well to me, a muse is a really abstract idea, but I was inspired to do something wherein it feels like a voice is talking right beside me, in almost a whisper trying to help me. Almost like a presence that doesn’t really require a body… Hmm… I don’t know, I liked it. And it made me realize that I need to stop talking to myself :D

I really don't like how fictionpress messed up the effect that I was going for. If you want to see the original formatting of this poem, go to my profile, click on my deviantART account and go to my deviations gallery.