“You can only use someone for so long before you dry them out. How long does a muse last? When do you let them loose?”

“I know you didn’t feel them, and when you spoke them they stung you. I know because I know you. I forgive because my heart has not the room to deface you.”

“Soul mates are muses. The people in your life you despise, disrespect and desire the most.”

“Smile. Your eyes sparkle when you do.”

“I’m too tired, too tired hearing your mean-wording, your pretending, your name-calling, sorry, not sorry, words you write, I should forgive because you didn’t mean them right? Oh plus I deserved them? Alright.”

“...I know I’ve broken all the rules of all the games, that all the great players and best love calculators recommend that you play, if you want to make someone like you a lot. But that’s okay, because I give up. I’ve got my coffee sitting in my San Francisco cup, I’ve got Kona island and a working beating heart that’s not cold, hard, or numb—very workable and capable of loving, breaking, mending and repeating. So that’s just what I’ll do. Because I’m too tired. Too tired uping all nighting wasting my precious timing wishing it was your heart pumping, wanting me— like I used to want you.”

“You are my heart, my head, my spine-you are the beat thumping through every line, and that’s why I write–it’s the only time we can be side by side.”