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.