I didn't need art. 

I watched you draw for hours. 

Sketch. 

Pause. 

Eat. 

Play a beat. 

Under the sheets. 

Smoke and sleep. 

Wake up and repeat. 

I didn't need art. 

I had you. 

You were the art. 

Cliché af. 

The beat of my heart. 

You were the dance. 

You were the rhythm. 

You were the sound 

Of the pencil on a pad. 

You were the one. 

That I always had. 

You said I was the Muse. 

You left me here alone and 

Now you are my Muse. 

Even in death. 

I'm just a lady now who 

Sings the blues. 

Once you left, 

I just couldn't cope. 

I see you all the time and 

Ask you why you had to go. 

You are annoyed with me 

Because I keep asking you to leave

And come back. 

Even when you tell me you can't. 

I didn't need art. 

You were the one. 

The one I was fixated on for so long. 

The one who I 

Didn't know what I had 

Until you were physically gone. 

I knew what I had. 

I take that back. 

I'm never understanding why 

We had to be on such separate paths. 

But it's okay. 

It is clearly fate.

I know you are waiting for me. 

My inspiration, 

I miss you. 

You're sitting near the window sill,

Looking out as you sketch what's out 

Below. 

I didn't need art, I needed you. 

Now that you're not here 

I fear 

I may O.D. 

Severely 

On the intake of my doses 

Of Humanities. 

But it's as close as 

I can get to you.

But it doesn't give me the same fill. 

Now I need art.  

Until we meet again. 

Pen in hand. 

Prophets and poets. 

Cooking up the most

Lyrical recipes, never bland. 

Never going to stop. 

It's us and you know it.