A Cup of Love

You As My Muse

You asked me if I've written something about you.

"Yes," I wanted to say.

You became my favorite topic.

Just thinking about you makes the words flow like water from a faucet.

"Can I read your poems?" you asked.

I got scared.

That once you read them, you'll find out they're about you.

I'm transparent, an open book.

When I write, you see, I pour my heart out.

So yes, my dear, you can read my poems.

Then you'll know how much you mean to me.

How much I really care.

And how I started to fall for you.

"Have you written something about specific people?" you wanted to know.

"Yes," I answered. "I wrote about guys who broke my heart."

"Am I in it?" was your second question.

Do you want to be? I thought.

And then, I realized.

That like them, you were only just planning to break my heart.

And you did.

You did.