For years I have known that I lost my muse for writing poems and songs. I did not know what caused me to lose that. I had tried to think of many things that could have caused it and none of them were the right things.
Then, the other day, James kissed me. He has kissed me before. But something about this kiss. It made every feeling that I had suppressed come rushing back all at once. I had buried my feelings for him because losing him so painful that I didn't want to deal with it at the time. So I had buried it so deep inside of me that I nearly forgot it all....until last Saturday when he kissed me.
Then this morning, I am sitting here drinking my coffee and I have this strong desire to start writing again. OMG he was the muse!! When I buried my feelings for him, I buried my ability to write. So, yesterday I told him that we should try a relationship again when he is ready. He agreed....without hesitation. I about died.
Thirty-one flavors
Only one matters
Your love has always been the one
The one flavor that was made for me
From day one
It was magic
We melted together
As one
Like it was meant to be
Our love grew
Like a tree
Taking on branches
With roots so deep and strong
Only a storm will show how strong
That storm came
You professed your love to me
Like a scared little girl, I curled up in a ball
I did not know to react
Our lives went separate ways
Two hearts are torn apart
My heart broke in a thousand pieces
Ways that I have never expressed to you
It hurt so bad that I ran away from Florida
I wanted to never feel that pain ever again
I shut my heart down for years
I swore to never let anyone in like that again
Twenty years later you find me
In a forest of people, you find me
My heart needed you so much
Then you were there
I still had not unburied what I had buried
You had never forgot
You carried it around with you all this time
What a burden that must have been for you to never know
And still to this day not know
I love you in depths that I never knew were possible
When it hit me Saturday, I was speechless
This morning it hit me that you were my muse
You were why I stopped writing
I am done running
For thirty-one years
It has always been you.