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Now You Become Art

Did you only ever want the painting, and to throw me away? Maybe the muse isn't always romantic.

I once was a muse

for a stranger. I didn’t know

what to do, so I chose to be oblivious

I sat frozen still and complacent. I became a

canvas. I was made into art. And I felt so beautiful.

Adored, for a moment. An object of intrigue.

A worthy subject to study. It's not often that

I am seen. It may have been arbitrary.

It's possible it was just

coincidence But I’ve never

been one for pedantics or

reasons. I just wanted to see

what you made of me. But of

course, you put away your

sketch book, the train

stops and I leave and you say

nothing and I'm so scared of being

wrong, despite your glances, despite the

sketchbook, despite the portraits

lined in its pages, because the

unknowing is better than

thinking i’m more than

I am.

Did you only ever

want the painting,

and to throw me

away? Maybe the

muse isn't always

romantic.

Hopefully,

you'll understand

this

too.



 

Jaidah-Leigh Wyatt is a Canadian-Jamaican writer currently studying film in university. She enjoys anything horror-related but has also been delving into absurdism and surrealism of late. Overall she aims to create works that challenge your perspectives and changes your views. Whether it be writing, films, or drawing, you can always find her working on something (or so she says).





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