I want to find my love in this world.
Until today writing has been my only truly faithful muse.
A beauty lies on the Horizon.
A gorgeous mix of comfort and pain.
She needs to catch up
And not stay so far behind.
She is not ahead,
Or so I tell myself this is so.
I cannot speed up or slow down any further.
My speedometer is on mute,
I just hear my pace in my mind.
I am at this pace,
Until my true muse I do find.
Heartbreak, sorrow, and pink bras hanging on the shower hook I do not fear.
I have seen it, felt it, and have been possessed by it before.
I don’t want to look for answers, explain myself at all times, depend on a savior, or even give out the rules we should live by.
I just want that woman to pat me on the back,
And wipe the tears from the keys on my typewriter as I dive deeper into my sublime.
I look for my completion.
I look for that twinkle of a woman in her eye.
I proudly state she will to be the muse of my bluebird soul.
I will try not to succumb to the lonely,
But have been known to tote the “only the lonely” late into the night on my arm.