The Summer Storm’s Muse

- The Seasons Of Grief: Chapter II - Poem IV -

Muse,

He wanted one so I gave him my dues,

He wanted a change, I was looking for good news,

I was a blue bruise,

He couldn’t refuse,

We both changed like a summer storm’s muse

You said we’d make it, together we’d soar,

Dreams in your heart like waves on the shore

You’ll write the songs the world will choose,

And call me the summer storm’s-

Muse,

He needed one so I gave him some clues,

He wanted a change, I was looking for a real truce,

I was a blue bruise,

He couldn’t refuse,

We both changed like a summer storm’s muse

But love, I’m raw, reckless, untamed,

I’ve lived in shadows, unsteady and unclaimed

I don’t know how to be someone’s misty calm,

And how to stay when I long to disarm

The humid of summer storms always near,

Thunder like doubts and whispers of fear,

You call it beauty; I call it a fight,

You find your songs in my restless nights

And you stay, through all my mistakes,

Like clouds in the sky, refusing to break,

I wreck, I rage, I bruise and confuse,

But still, you call me your summer storm’s-

Muse,

He wanted one so I gave him my dues,

He wanted a change, I was looking for good news,

I was a blue bruise,

He couldn’t refuse,

We both changed like a summer storm’s muse

I said one day your music will shine,

The world will echo your melody with great divine,

And I’ll sit, uneasy in our story, our song,

A strange place to be, I’m thinking about if I belong

Yet here you are, holding my hand,

Like how the rain softens the driest land,

I ruin, I build, I try, I refuse,

But you still love me, your summer storm’s-

Muse,

He needed one so I drew him the color of blue,

He wanted a change, I was looking for something to lose,

I was a blue bruise,

He couldn’t refuse,

We both changed like a summer storm’s muse

The winds may howl, the skies may cry,

You see more than the chaos inside,

You call me art; you see my hues,

Forever, you’re my summer storm muse

And when you sing beneath the stars,

When we ride our bikes beneath trees aside parked cars,

I’ll hear your voice and I’ll choose,

To believe I’m worthy of being your summer storm’s-

Muse,

He wanted one so I gave him my dues,

He wanted a change, I was looking for good news,

I was a blue bruise,

He couldn’t refuse,

We both changed like a summer storm’s muse