The poetry of a sad muse

The Creator

Halsey says
Hate the creator in the image I'm made.
But not god.
The creator who molded you into the way you are.
The person who didn't like you for who you were.
Too loud for your own good.
Cry so much you could fill a river.
Music that is so emo it makes you feel spiller under your finger nails.
Your clothes are too bright or not showing enough.
Now the creator is sitting at the edge of the bed telling you what to wear today.
What music to listen to?
What friends are you're aloud to see?
But you're blind and don't see the gal-low in the distance with your new life,
Put a lens over your eyes.
So blind you can't see the warning signs.
You say they're just butterflies.
Losing friends left and right.
They don't know anything about your relationship.
You love the creator so much that you start doing bad stuff.
Speeding down the highway forced into a drug haze.
They want you to try new stuff.
You do what you are told and try to have "fun".
Alarm bells start to finally go off.
Your love for the creator turns into blood.
The creator doesn't like you anymore.
Can't handle what they made you into.
You break it off with the creator.
You living for yourself now.
Writing your narrative, not the creators.
Learning to love yourself all over again.