Perhaps It is Them

Perhaps it was her,

The red-haired imaginative heroine of her own story.

The girl who was stronger than a horse and braver than a bear.

The girl who was Princess Cordelia, friend of the snow queen.

The girl who was unafraid to be her and take the lead.

The girl who didn’t need a man so set out instead in search of a life mate.

The girl who brightened the lives of so many around her.

Or perhaps it was him,

The person who was a little broken inside but still found love.

The man who seemed frail on the surface but was actually a tirade of self-expression and life.

The person who, pink boa and all, was fearless in the end. Who overcame his trauma and held on and stood by his siblings.

Or maybe it’s her who lives in my head,

The being that comes to me in my dreams and manifested herself in all of my ideas.

The being that looks at a simple picture with no meaning to it and finds the story of three princes or two lovers with a doomed reality or of a girl who loved her brother and the country and the woods that surrounded her grandmother’s cottage home.

The being who comforts me and brings to me the comfort characters I look up to that give me advice and let me talk out my problems when I am too shy to speak about it to others.

Whoever it is that is my muse,

That breathes my expressions to life,

Whether it be one or all of them,

Whether they are a fictional or real person,

Whether they be family or a friend or a total stranger I met the other day,

They are who inspire me,

Who give me emotion and empathy,

Who set me free.