WE ARE NOT A MUSE


When the darkness hits the muse finds her voice...
She tells me what to write down.
She lives in the dark spaces between the colours of the rainbow.
She visits when things are hardest.
When the drugs are wearing off.
Sometimes I like her songs
Her voice lifts me up and gives me the wings I so desire
Other times she leaves me crushed
Doubting everything and everyone in my life
Doubting my ability to love and be loved

When the darkness hits the muse finds her voice
And the black dog howls along...