My muse

Could I have changed things,

Was my "Good Morning" empty and meaningless,

Being my muse meant no importance to you? 

Did this distance I would create for brief moments,

Make you think again,

Was it unhealthy how obsessed I grew with you,

Or did you relish it,

Did you desire to see me fill my canvas with torment and despair,

Like I was painting love and roses,

Was there ever any love between us, my muse,

Or was it all a fabrication,

Could you ever return to my side,

Smiling at my sobbing and distraught form,

Promising 

That this time, you'd stay,

Pleading with me to never hurt you

In the same way as others have done in the past,

Please, don't let this be our conclusion,

I ask for just one more chance,

To paint you a picture of our love,

One in which there are no shadows,

Only light,

Only beauty,

Please, come back to me.