She used to be my muse,
now,
she is just another face in the crowd;
and when I look at her,
I think,
‘how?’
How did she used to make me feel so many things?
And now,
nothing,
no inspiration.
Nothing.
Her smile does nothing.
Her eyes do nothing.
How?
This is the problem with beauty,
you my find it somewhere,
at a certain time,
but let time tick,
and come back to it,
and see
if it
is still beautiful to you.
-C.H.