Lost Muse

She sits and stares at the blank page. She wills her pencil to write something, anything. But nothing comes. There is so much trapped inside her. So many thoughts, so many feelings, so many sensations. She wants to spill them all out onto the page, wants to fill the whole notebook with the things she holds inside.

But still, nothing comes.

She knows why. Her muse has left. Not a figment of her imagination. Not some character dreamed up to personify a mood. Her real, living, breathing muse. The girl who is both a big sister and twin. The girl who somethers ketchup on practically everything. The girl who is excited about everything, even a new pair of underwear. The girl who bakes marble cakes with chocolate frosting, supplies whipped cream and a ride in that ever-loving red Cutlass. The girl who goes out of her way to give you a hug and a kind word. The girl who dances. The girl who brings the poetry back.

That girl, that muse. That is why she can't write.

That is why.

-Without you, the ground thaws, the rain falls, the grass grows.
Without you, the seeds root, the flowers bloom,
The children play. The stars gleam, the poets dream, the eagles fly, without you.
The earth turns, the sun burns, and I die, without you.

"Without You", RENT.-

<3 = brittany