What happens when the muse speaks


Words || Sarah Vanderfield

What Happens When the Muse Speaks?
Did you love me as your muse?
Did I radiate perfection?
Did I hold myself at just the right angles?
Did my mouth curve in delight at your words?
Look, your inspiration is smiling!

But what happens when she speaks?
What if the words aren’t pretty?
What if they are fierce and fiery and fuck-
They demand more of you.

I’m good at being a muse.
Endless inspiration in me,
Overflowing, just for yo1u to take.

Paint me. Write me. Capture me.
You can’t. I am too much.
I erupt like boiling water:
burning your canvas and running your ink.

The speaking is too much.
You cover your ears
While you talk of ‘not all men.’
Her voice gets louder.
You cover your eyes
While you continue preaching safety.

Her screams break through.
How dare she be more.

I leapt out from the canvas and grabbed the brush,
I danced on the pages where you made me up,
I crossed out words and redrew lines,
I made my own way out of your shrines.
I loved like no other fierceness
And was not afraid to speak.
Tell me again I should be weak.
I wrote my own songs
And told my own stories.
I clapped for women
Shattering boundaries.
I painted my world
And wrote my own law.
Girls to the front;
Come speak some more.