The Muse

I’m thinking bout the girl. The one I crave attention from, the one my thoughts ramble on about and meander the merry-go-round of affection.
She said she read my blog. Does she really think it’s good? Does she think I’m smart? What interest did she have in the machinations of mine mind?
Love me like me, applause applause. Pause. How full of myself can I really get? You have a personal blog jackass where you expect kudos and adoration. You think you aren’t one of the fevered egos blazing at the speed of 15 minutes?
Ah but I give something of substance, whatever may be said it is a creation of a kind. A little poetry, a little levity, something to take edges off these jagged little pills. The artsy tree blooms while my sanity dips.
Lithe little swimmer torpedoing about. Golly gee guppy gnoshing tender morsels by the muse. It’s been awhile since I had one. The exhilaration, the rush that flows in these veins from the pretty flower of my life.
I cannot get attached. I have seen the cards with this one and it seems not meant to be, though maybe that’s the coward pushing everything away. Happiness a dull dream I do not take upon myself. But the attachment, the longing, the feelings that crash into the reality of the situation.
What pain I am left with when they all move on. I hate it but I must embrace it nonetheless. Steppin through like a soldier with a x upon my chest.

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