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For, I was only his muse

For, I was only his muse

If you ever seek love,
Fall in love with an artist.

For they have soft hands and subtle ways,
They will tug the right chords in your heart,
And stitch your soul,
To heal all the wounds that once pricked your insides,
They will stay with you in the quiet,
And hold you tight in the chaos of goodbye.

An artist once etched his name on the back of my neck,
With tender fingers, he painted my soul on his canvas,
He turned me into art and I became immortal.

Unsurprisingly, a few months later, he fell out of love,
For I, was only his muse, 
But she had become his masterpiece.

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