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My Muse Can Be A Harsh Mistress

22 June, 2013

We all know the frustration of the muse letting us down, but we can’t express it as well as Joanne does here. I don’t reblog very much, but THIS is a brilliantly written piece


I should have known better than to trust my muse.
She’s invisible mostly but still I see her shimmering, changing, glowing, just to torment me.
Sometimes, she slips into my dreams and steals whatever she can while she’s there.
Memories, fantasies, it’s all the same to her as long as it’s mine.
It’s creepy.
There’s this certain laugh that drips out of her mouth on occasion, it’s the color of cruelty when the sun hits it just right and it mocks me loudly.
I try to explain to her that laughter has no shape, it isn’t tangible, but she just yawns then blows me a kiss. It forms a putrid cloud and slips into my mouth.
It tastes of sour strawberries.
When I ask her where she’s been hiding and why she ignores me so often lately she slips into a mirror across the room and looks back at me…

View original post 215 more words


From → Blogging, Writing

  1. I am humbled.

  2. really good

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