I am a muse amused by you.

This is just to say,

I have stolen all of your lightbulbs.

I needed them to see the light

You already have.

I am so sorry.

It is so bright.

I was laying in bed this morning, wondering how I can cope with the throws of love and remembered that I once did with poetry. Jumping up, I found my book of self sewn poetry detailing the swells and aches of my little heart in high school.

So here are some treasures.

I've waited miles and searched ages for an inspiration like yourself.

My caffeinated beats, fleets and tease, meets and squeeze.

Nerves, rusty from rain, crusty with pain, unused and abused.

You are my anecdote in the awkward room.

My antidote in the virus boom.

Never take your hand away, never leave me this way.

SIDE NOTE: Even now I haven't searched ages in anything. Also, he did leave me that way.

My grumpy tummy tells funny tales. It wails and snails towards food and down trails. We've been down this road, slowed by hunger. Over and under clover and thunder.

Good grief, I was starving.

God Woman, let me be free. Joined hips bring snide quips.

You cause ire in my bile. Your fire's out of style.

A truly human thing to do

Unruly crewmen sing to blue

Soaking up the salty hue

Ignoring that little, faulty screw

that sunk the boat

and killed the crew.

Davy Jones wishes you

all a bitter

and deep adieu.

Birds will dance and men will fly and then we'll learn you can't touch the sky.

The crow will laugh and the dove will snort at our disappointment and dreams cut short.

But no matter how we beg and how we plead, birds won't give up the grounded life they lead.

We will be stuck between Earth and Space, our final dream we're left the chase.