When I’m alone, your voice has reign

And I succumb every time;

To untruths of the deepest pain,

From where no prospect can climb.

 

When I’m alone, you speak no love

Of me or the work I’ve done.

Not a single piece you’re proud of;

Not a single prize I’ve won.

 

When I’m alone, I become you;

A shell of who I could be.

So deeply so it becomes true.

The real me, left for debris.

 

When I’m alone, I can’t create

For fear of what you will say.

Failed first attempt: you are irate,

The predator caught its prey.

 

When I’m alone, the torment grows,

You poked something you just killed.

But from the dead a chance arose –

The chance to create and build;

 

A real artist.

I love the highs and learn from the lows. The bit in the middle is where life happens.