Physical Muse

A Poem by Amber

Just thought of where I could take these events and this line of thought. This is what my mind came up with.

An artist’s mental muse

Soon became her physical one.

Let’s listen to her story.

Lend her your ears,

So the poor girl screams no more.

I’m better.

I will not surrender to life.

My canvas will remain taintless.

Oh, the days when these saving graces did not have to be

Repeated on a daily basis.

It’s become like a badly written script,

And I can clearly see the audience cringing in their seats.

Finding such a simple object made these thoughts quickly

Fly away.

Holding it so dear in my cold hands, afraid that it will be taken from me,

Yet wanting to smash it open and retrieve the two silver rewards that were left

For me to enjoy.

If only you knew what is really hidden inside that little black jewelry box.

But stashed away so cleverly,

Might I add, are these dangerous treasures.

Twisting them in my fingers,

Feeling the familiar cold temperature

That made me outpour warmth.

And so her story continues, dear readers.

Tucked away in that box are they,

While the canvas, aching to be drawn on,

Remains untouched.

The artist tries to escape her muse,

For this was something she did not choose.

Gingerly awaiting her sentence,

She walks on.

Walking on the fraying tightrope known as her world.

© 2012 Amber

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Featured Review

Nicole

i don't really know what just happened, but i think you touched my soul. i had to read this a couple hundred times just to get past the sheer beauty of it, and now that i'm trying to understand it, it seems like an enigma wrapped in a mystery. i am actually kinda afraid to reply to this, because i feel like i'll say the wrong word, and it will ruin the absolute perfection that i'm trying to convey. it's absolutely perfect, and if you don't mind, i would love to learn more of the story behind it...