The pattern is this –

Instant intrigue, lust, laughter, hope.

A feeling of awe and amazement.

A too good to be true, kind of feeling.

You’re that thing I’ve always looked for, they say.

You’ve just got this way, they say.

This has nothing to do with perfection you say.

We are all either ignorantly unaware or blissfully imperfect.

This has everything to do with being put on a pedestal.

It used to flatter, and then you grew up.

A pedestal is the result of someones insecurity and control.

But it’s like this honey soaked kiss that feels like power until you open your eyes to pull away, only to realize that you’re stuck.

They will take and take from their muse.

Can you blame them?

They have it good.

They are rising and achieving; but it comes at a cost.

They may wipe a drop of sweat or a salty tear from your face now and then.

Send you their latest creation.

Your silhouette etched in charcoal.

Poetic verses of you spilt effortlessly from their soul.

Yes, to be loved is to be inspired.

But to reside in love, is to be the love that holds you close when no one is near.

This love asks for nothing in return.

This love allows you to be the one strong enough to transform.

Transform your pain into purpose.

Grief into a gift.

Your broken heart into the most open heart.

A heart that whispers –

              ‘break me again, I dare you’.

My darling she said, be your own Muse.