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I had found my muse, even though all he made me feel is blue.

He was my art, something I believed can't be ripped apart.

But now I watch you become somebody else's muse, it had hurt than just a bruise.

I watch the art slowly getting ruined, knowing I'll get abandoned. Again and again, I should never complain.

I knew this would happen, so why did I let it? I loved him too much, that's something I am scared to admit.

I finally smile, letting go of my abiding masterpiece. I can now finally be at peace.