You Came Back

Hello, Muse.
You’re back.
I missed you.
So much.
It’s been seven years.
You remember?

 

Last time,
you came
and I was angry.
I tore it all,
every page,
Burned it,
every notebook.
Nothing left.

 

But that wasn’t the first.
You’ve seen it before.
At twenty-seven.
Same ritual.
Torn notebooks.
Burned drafts.
Delete.
Empty bin.
Like none of it ever happened.

 

I wasn’t scared of writing.
I was scared of someone reading.
Of being seen.
Too much.
Too clear.
Too close.
I didn’t want to be known.
Still don’t.

But you came back.
Quiet.
Unshaken.
Like you knew
I was finally tired

of hiding.

So I’m writing again.
Not because I’m safe.
Not because I’m sure.

But because
you showed up.
And this time,
I didn’t slam the door.