muse

over the last few years ive become somewhat obsessed with words. reading and writing have become as usual as sleeping and eating. this became especially true given some space from school where both were part of the program and i was put into a box with what to to read and write.

i think that anyone who writes can tell you that it ebbs and flows. you cant always write. there has to be an inspiration of some sort. the muse.

i met a muse last weekend. in the flesh. well, i had met her before, but for whatever reason never really took much notice. but this time was different. we only kicked it last friday and saturday. but her legacy wont fade. its odd. something only a few hours in the making has cast a rather large shadow. she has burrowed into my brain and doesnt seem inclined to leave. but i have written a lot from all this. and if thats all that comes of it, im okay with that. any writer, from a joe like me to bill shakespeare needs a muse. and she was that.

heres a taste:
she's gone back home,
both back to being alone
dont get me wrong, im fine
but she still weighs on my mind.


i think im better with prose, but i like words that rhyme.