your art can keep you companyangel dust burns in charred black,
rusting gold into indigo crimson
as it dances upon your unsure brow —
you lift the paint brush in anticipation;
you were always good at painting,
but you're unsure of one thing:
will she be there watching you as
you create your works of art?
daffodil petals are shorn on your
table, a reminder that she left
you haven't lifted her cup of coffee
from the spot she left it in:
what if she came back for it?
you could never let her be thirsty,
even if she left your heart slaked for
the company she provided.
silver tears spilled down your eyes
in raindrops thicker than clouds,
falling in pieces larger than star
antimatter as they plunged
down your face in an assault:
she left me, what can I do?
it doesn't matter if she comes —
because you don't need her as a
girlfriend or muse your art is your
passion, so let the paint fly through
your grief making your work
more wonderful than it's ever
been or ever will be again:
paint over all the boundaries she never
let you cross, spill her coffee, show
the world a new shade of lilac.
Linda Crate is a Pennsylvanian native with a Bachelor's degree in English Literature from Edinboro University. Her poetry has been recently published in Magic Cat Press, Black-Listed Magazine, and Bigger Stones.