After creating a little comment section on the other poem I have posted on here, i felt Emit deserved the same privelege. She wrote this while trying to get over what I've heard has been a very messy breakup, using Sam Waterston as her muse.

Then again, I might wanna shut up now and let you enjoy Emi.

      Poised on the abyss of sleep,
      Ready to fall into dreaming,
      You appear at my side, pull me back ,
      Rouse me into wakefullness,
      To force my pen to paper.

      My elusive muse,
      (more abstract than concrete)
      Prefers the silent hours of the night
      To cluttered day.

      Intangible as thought,
      You rely on me for substance,
      And so I picture you as real and flesh you out
      With dark eyes that smoke 
      Like cooling embers.
      Your visits, far too brief,
      Disturb my calm.

      But breathe again, sweet boy,
      And this time, stay a while.
      I guess I'm not that tired after all.