thank you for being my muse

I dreamt of you each night

I thought about you each day

I wrote about only you,

when I had the words to say

//

meeting you was facing

a reflection of myself;

meeting you was a reflection

of the ways I still needed help

//

when the wait became a burden,

my pain flooded every pen;

when despair turned to disappointment,

I only tried to play pretend

//

now, each verse you read

in every poem I write

contains traces of you and only you―

it's my last and only sight

//

while our time was only too brief,

I still recall each day so clearly

you could've become my forever love ― 

we'd just missed our chance, nearly

//

whether for a reason or a season,

I now know this saying to be true;

only a month of knowing, and still I say

my muse has become only you