Muse Poem by Melissa Joy Chesky

You, Muse, are harder to extract from my present than thought possible.
The inspiration from your inflicted pain is both addicting and agonizing,
You are like cocaine as I write about you,
But after the inscribed I come down from my clouds and crash hard
On an empty bed, an empty love, an empty life.
You give my words a body, a heartbeat and a genuity
But these resurrected words have a price on the soul, and especially on the heart,
And I've paid the devil handfuls and more from my deficit I can't crawl out from.
Debt cannot describe the tons I owe
It's digging a twenty foot hole when you have no ladder,
Drowning when you never learned to swim,
Finding yourself unattached when true love lies next to you, your arms tense and guarding
When theirs are warm and inviting.
All this for words, all this for the complication simply known as you and I,
Poet and Muse.