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  • Writer's pictureSofia Ortiz

The Fate of the Muse

I plant seeds into your skull and watch as daisies start Blooming in the springtime of our discontent.


I cut the stems with glass shards of crystal stars.

Glitter spattered in your hair.


Synth sparkles and nylon strings write you

Into a melancholy melody (one I can never get enough of):


Dusty pink pointe shoes and lace curtains,

Porcelain cups and chamomile tea.


I see your shadow in the corner,

And remember who I used to be.




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