(b)mused is what happens when love doesn't arrive.
When someone becomes a muse, but never quite a mirror.
When confusion becomes its own kind of intimacy.
In these poems, the speaker drifts between clarity and ache, tracing the soft violence of a connection that left more questions than closure. To be (b)mused is to be inspired and unraveled, to feel the edges blur between tenderness and disorientation, memory and myth.
This is not a love story —
but a story about what we write when love disappears and we find ourselves again.
