Sincerely- B,

**We had to write this type of poem for my english class, about and exhibit in a museum! I chose to write about the “Bee Tree.” Really my first attempt at using this kind of stanza structure. Hope yall like it. Love you, happy Wednesday**

Black. Like the earth smothered
by nighttime. A never ending
infinity of wide open sky. But the heavens cant
be reached without the air stealing my breath.

Yellow. Like the marriage between
the rich sunlight and my primal need
keeping the flowers alive. But, still, they would
be nothing with out the rain.

Queen. Cloaked in warmth and dignity.
The love between us as beautiful and
pure as the honey drizzling down my jar.
Here she left me,

Alone. This hive is crowded,
the constant hums altering the
natural rhythm of my own broken heart.
I don’t know who I am without her.

Flowers. I nursed my infatuation for
you. Allowed it to blossom, cradled in
tightly. Close to my heart as we melted into one.
Now the flowers are dead.

Buzzing. Monotone screams,
reminding me this is home.
Drowning in the cries of mirror images
of things I no longer want to be.

Open. This space is overwhelmed
by freedom. However the constraints of
the ghost of my infatuation keep
me coming home.

Fly. She is no longer my home. I just want
this humming to stop. Buzzing to stop.
Heartbreak to stop. This hive has nothing
more to offer me. I think that its time for me to fly.

Good-bye.

hIr

“its okay.”

breath on my neck humbling the tremors in my hands. gliding. like butter. her hands wrapped around my hands wrapped around sweet ecstasy. i cant describe it. indulging in such delicacies. the rush of excitement of driving at three am. closing your eyes and pushing the pedals down; she leaves it up to chance. while the sadness drips from my veins she holds me, rocks me. hushes me. i can feel her tears burn into my cheeks. why is she sobbing? on tuesday night i tell her that i am done. that i do not want to do this anymore. she smiles-

“its too late.”

ten minutes after the bell she stumbles inside. late. the coffee on her breath muffled by the alcohol seeping from my pores. the dead of night reflecting itself in the circles under her eyes. i am tired. tired of seeing her this way. shes tired. tired of the boys and the booze and the chemistry tests. she spends hours in the library. hours calculating risks, hours analyzing equations, hours reviewing the statistics. seconds in the bar. seconds learning your name, seconds in the back seat, seconds before she whispers-

“show me your dark side.”

i felt the vibrations of her lips melt into yours. i sealed my mouth. please do not say another word. she ripped the clothes from my skin. i do not want to meet any part of you. instead i lay down, watch her eyes. black. i feel your body twitching. your sweat dripping into my skin. again i meet her eyes. glazed over. staring at the ceiling. the thirty seconds you occupy her body she is allowed to leave. three is a crowd. she asks me to wait in the car. stains of humiliation paint her neck, even after the darkness in her eyes disappears. on the drive home i ask her why she lays down with people who make her feel so alone-

“i love it.”

i stopped recognizing her. a strangers touch replacing a warm embrace. visiting a grave; knowing the body that once gave you so much peace is being devoured in the darkest places this universe has to offer. still i fought for her. like a solider defending his country i defended her right to sanity. i told her she was beautiful and intelligent and deserved happiness. but she described hating herself as a type sickness. a cancer that manifest in your brain and illuminates though your smile. she doesn’t seem to care. making no efforts to get better. having a so called love affair with every form of self destruction available to a nineteen year old child. i am lost. im screaming that i don’t know how to help her. bewildered i ask her who she has become-

“you. i am you.”

 

“certain individuals cannot handle what they have become. they project their discrepancies onto other people, act as though someone else is the reason they do what they do. they create a world where their sadness, emptiness and self loathing doesn’t exist. instead they are meerly a bystander, disassociated from themselves. we can only imagine how detrimental it is when they discover the reality of the situation.”

dIrty

your whispers danced in my head as the room flooded with sounds of rushing water. promises. words. water. guarantees. validation. water. i picked apart each sentence. evaluated the meaning behind each word, searching for any reason to discredit you. over analyzed. my questions regarding your motives, answered by the clarity flowing from the  faucet.

your hands peeled my clothes away. soft palms running along my back, stripping my shirt over my head. leaving my hair to delicately drop across my shoulders. bony fingers dismantled the the locks behind my back, setting my soul free. the same fingers hooked around my sanity and slowly slid it to the ground. my body clothed with nothing more than your eyes.

a single glare caused lumps to form in the pit of my stomach and butterflies to flutter up my throat. as if my body was a cold glass of water presented in front of a man dying of thirst. brown eyes breaking their lock on my body to connect with my own innocent gaze. watching my reaction to your lips pressing against my skin.

steam poured from inside me as your lips familiarized with my body. mthe vibrations of your voice left my mind blank, left my back arched, left my fingers tousled in your curls. the longer your skin married into mine, the harder for me to catch my breath. pink lips decorating my collar bone. my stomach. my thighs. pink lips that coaxed me into the bath you had drawn for us.

submerged in water i waited for you to wrap your arms around me. hold me steady. hold me safely inside the warmth of your wet bare skin. instead i sat confused as you ran my naked body along ribbed boards. erased the clarity from my water with a thick smell of bleach. held my head under suds and rang the life out of my body.

you have to wash your dirty laundry, before you hang it out to dry.

 

mIstakes.

the light reflected the dew forming around your hairline. little rain droplets created from the intensity of your hips grinding against mine. dripping. like the soap bubbles smothering my moms sudan. cleansing. washing the dirt away. i sat behind the driver in silence. powerless. feeling the humming of the machines beating the side of the car. pulsing. allowing the vibrations to finesse their way into my skin. breaking the flesh. i liked the pressure, because it was

welcoming.

i slid my fingers along the ridges of your body. never in my life have my hands felt so full. the groves of my finger tips melting into the follicles that covered your entirety. warmth. the cold air that rushed across my bare skin was nothing compared to the warmth of your breath. lust is explainable. like dancing in warm snow flakes. my mother always told me that when you played in the cold too long, one would eventually get

sick.

parts of my body did not belong to me anymore. they were yours. i wrapped my lips around your pride and held your ego in my hands, never feeling more powerless. i placed my mouth on yours to stop sweet nothings from spewing past your lips, but instead the richness of your voice reeked havoc inside me. i stopped holding onto you for stability. i reached for you at 3pm when the weight of the world fell onto my shoulders. falling into an unexpected

feeling.

i felt your presence move further and further up from my hips. eventually all birds fly home after the winter. my heart could not stay frozen forever. i looked the other way when you etched your name into the ice. i could no longer control my mind from going blank when you danced inside me. i felt your eyes graze across my body. exposed. i felt your heart race when you slide your hands up back. satisfied. i felt your breath grow heavy when your eyes locked to mine. bliss. i felt the sincerity in your voice when you asked me to

stay.

like a timid animal i crawled into your arms. slept soundly. peacefully. calmed by the notion that the seeds growing inside me were sewed by you. i found a home next to you, swaddled by your ideas and saturated in your world. you spent less time with my hands in your hair and more wrapped around my finger. but people don’t change. now that i know her name i don’t want to know yours anymore. however starry eyed i allowed you to sign the most intimate places of me months ago. when you call my name i cant fight the instinct to come running. i think ive made a

mistake.

 

 

 

 

paIn.

its falling in love with heartbreak. because when he kissed my neck the gun pressed against my temple didnt feel so cold. he held my hand while he filled the syringe, swallowing the needle in pools of insults. insulting every variance that made me, me. not before long i learned to shoot the poison into my own veins. sharing his needles, willing to openly inject his pain in between my toes. as my heart exploded i smiled, threw my head back in ecstasy. the night i decided to get sober he held a pillow over my face. love is suffocating my soul, and i love it.

its all five stages of grief at once. bitter streaks of anger dancing around a cloud of denial. i closed my eyes and ran the knife across my throat, out of sight out of mind. swearing on my brothers grave that i will get help tomorrow, pretending i can walk away at any time. offering the soul of my mother in exchange for my freedom. waking up early every day to fertilize a field of blossoming daises, knowing that nothing will ever grow inside me. being beaten by hatred and consoled by emptiness. accepting that if this is all life has to offer, i  don’t want to be apart of it anymore.

its drowning in your own bed. the darkness of 4am rubs my back and crawls up my nose. i carved out my rational mind to build her a home between my eyes. she whispers. always whispering. making promises she cant keep. i believed her assuring me there is beauty in pain; as the weight of the water slowly crush my ribs. even when my eyes are open im bathing in black. inhaling water is peaceful. the rush of tears into my lungs numbed her voice. the bottom of the ocean is cold, it is empty. those who sit on the floor sit alone. i thanked the man who risked his life to save me, but hated him for not letting my drown.

its liberating. its uncertainty. its morbid. watching an abused wife pull the trigger; finally releasing her husbands hands from her neck. the day your rapist is sentenced to life in prison, the day your dad is put on parole. shaking the hand of the man who beat your sister to death. acing the test you studied for. anorexia during thanksgiving. storming out of a room and being chased by the love of your life. holding pieces of your lovers skull in your hands. swearing you can change the devil. never having to wake up. all at the same time.

its realizing that she lied. there is no beauty in pain.

i miss it every day 

f3Lt.

i felt it in my soul when he slid his hands up my shirt. i wanted it. i wanted more. i wanted the distraction of coffee stained teeth and track marked infested veins. the illness of another resting in my hands. in my soul. my soul was a slave to his desire. i needed what  he wanted. its impossible to feel empty when someone else is inside your head. 

i felt it in my hands. cold. the icy rivers of black tar running through my veins caused my hands to tremble. they went numb looking for warmth. but when the blood red charcoals of freshly lit cigarettes glistened towards me i couldn’t resit welcoming her home. feeling her jolt of warmth run through my body. the bubbling of my skin no longer mattered, because i was in love with the buzzing in my fingertips after i touched her body.

i felt it in my back. an urge. a craving for bloody knuckles and gasping for air. to feel the pride of another deflate as my hands pulled them down. my eyes shooting glares of hatred, my mouth spewing words of disgust. my rationality holding back the blood thirsty monster in my spine. there is no angry with me. there is a a thick concoction of rage boiling over at the base of my body. there is a primal need to exhibit destruction that is nestled between my joints. i have never seen red; i’ve felt it.

i felt it in my teeth. crawling. squirming. i instructed my brain to remain logical. to chase away the voices of the monsters under my bed. clenching my teeth, begging my mouth to stop opening the gateway between my irrational mind and the world. eventually, it did. when i lost my voice the spindle in my head that once constantly weaved elaborate webs, stood still. i attempted to scream, to speak louder, to try to regain control of the machinery responsible for my sanity. but i couldn’t. the silence haunts me, knowing i asked for this emptiness.

i felt your pain break my heart. i tilted my head like a confused animal when attempting to identify the source. as if i didn’t know. while a mothers intuition saved the child, curiosity killed the cat. so i watched your life like re-runs of Sunday morning cartoons. forgetting that your existence blossomed beyond the visible parts on the screen. i spent ten months so indulged in myself, id almost forgotten you were missing. when you stopped returning my calls, i showed up at your door. i expected the welcoming smile of the child that had once saved my life. but rather i was greeted by a hurried note stapled to the door declaring you no longer lived here. when my search for your sanity grew weary, i grew physically ill. in vain, i found you. my mind went blank when i realized you were the one staring back at me, every time i looked in the mirror. two decades of my misery flashed in front of me when i looked into your eyes. unknowingly i held the door to the deepest shadows of my heart break open, and you found a home. i can never forgive myself for that. i don’t sleep much anymore. wondering that if i hate myself, how can i love you? 

i am an all-or-nothing type of person. in the terms that i do not feel emotions properly. i misplace them. i feel nothing as they manifest in various parts of my body. however, when they demand to be felt, i cannot get out of bed as they feast on my well being. but eventually i will feel nothing again. 

im so sorry i hurt you. 

fear

i told myself to be strong. when the sun seeped through my windows the morning after you left me i allowed lies to seep from my lips. even though i didn’t believe a single promise i made i still etched them into my skull. i told the girl in the mirror that she was glorious and beautiful and bright as i painted over the impurities cursing her body. every lonely night i held my own hand. swaddled the pieces of my broken soul with these two arms. i kissed my own lips and washed your name out of my mouth with bleach. i bared the weight of titanium screws and rebuilt every broken bone you left me with. i put myself aside unable to deal with the immensity of the situation. i felt small without you. small enough to crawl into my head and sit patiently. patiently while i analyzed the thousands of moments extended across my lifetime that id ruined. i flipped through pages upon pages of smiles that no longer belonged to me. i blamed myself for it all. over night; i changed.
i grew brighter, bigger, pushed everyone out of my life to give me more room. i stood on tables in bars and danced in the street and screamed off rooftops at 3am. but when i went home i sat quietly in the corner sipping on sadness. i grew fonder of being alone. with grief stricken eyes i would glare at the girl id placed on the shelf months back. was that really me? her skin looked so peachy and her eyes seem to glow. i used to assume that shes still adored you. i envied that part of her.

when you came back you whispered promises into my ear. you held my hand and kissed my lips. you swaddled me in your arms and asked me to trust you. i think that i do.

but there she sits on the shelf, reminding me of what you did. her eyes do not glow anymore; her skins as pale as the ghost of my infatuation for you. even though she is silent i can hear her screaming, begging my eyes to stop glowing at the sound of your name. i know that you’re no good. i know that i should leave.

but i dont know how.

addicted.

words. 

dripping like a smoothe choclate glaze. smothering the cracks of a soul that broke itself in order to let the light in. the thickness desperately seeping into each crevice and declaring it his home. i thought the darkness would rock me to sleep. occupy my mind long   enough to put me to rest. have you ever witnessed the fluidity of sweet promises crystalizing peace into a mind gone mad? its comforting. but the drizzles did not work for me. instead it scratched out the childlike hope in my veins and replaced it with

black. 

like my lashes. i painted each one like velvet. perfection. as black as the ice of a winters night that thrills from the screams of its victims before the sun gets a chance to shine. jet black veils shading the holes within my face. covering the galaxies from gazing upon themself. i allowed them to glisten but never rain. never cry. when my demons were fed stars danced within my pupils. however the stars were not light. they were reflections from years ago. reminding me of the wrong and the unjust. the joyful memories that used to dwell there turned to combustion and dust. they 

collapsed. 

the chip on my shoulder became hands steadily wrapped around my neck as i clawed for air. but neatly hope sat in the back of my head, that he would clench his fist and finally release me from this shell. my mind sat like an abandoned bee hive craving the crazed buzzing noises of thoughts and revelations. craving the voices of stangers of friends of lovers. i sat in silence. i sat on my knees glaring out a window calling to anyones God, if Hes out there, please send me a shooting star. all i want is one goddamn wish to bring myself back. i just want to be happy again. God please let me be happy again. im 

begging. 

like an exhausted foot tapping i sat impatiently waiting for his arrival. to feel the oblivion of a fix. to be swaddled in the arms of myself before my flaws were stitched into my sleeves. when they left me on empty i lashed out. broke hundreds of memories, shattered every bridge i attempted to save. punched holes in the walls and kicked and screamed until they had to forcibly remove me from their lives. i did not go down easy. like a hell bent son defending his father i stood by my happinesses side. refusing to let go of his hand, even when it was only in my

imagination. 

every part of me is empty. is bitter. is angry. but i like to pretend that it isnt. i trace the smiles of my peers across my lips and lace my hair with bright colored flowers and bountiful curls. i speak softly. i speak rationally. i use the white streaks of the lightening electrifying the storms inside me to light a fire. a fire that lights up the words “denial” and “hopeless” and “save this fucking ship” across my face like the las vegas strip. but unlike the boulevard no one reads my signs. i do not have time to read them aloud. no one comes to save me after ive hung my face out to dry. in the blissfulness of night when chills run up my spine and the darkness opens his doors to let me back inside. he smells like coffee. god i love coffee.  maybe i am in denial. maybe my soul is black and my mind has collapsed and im just begging for something for someone to see past the imaginary image ive projected of myself. but maybe it doesnt matter. because these are nothing more than 

words. 

“whether its drugs, booze, sex, religion or hope. we’re all addicted to something” 

piece by piece

a flake. 

a flake for each boy ive parted my lips for. making room for their pride and spitting out my dignity. swallowing every notion they give to me, as meaningless and spiteful as they sounded i absorbed them. played them back in my head a thousand times. opened my mouth to return the favor, but my words bounced right back. as if it never mattered. 

a sliver. 

a sliver for the boy in the blue vest, eyeing me from across the room. telling me im beautiful. more beautiful than my friends. more beautiful than his ex. more beautiful than my ex deserved. thats the part that won me. but in his head hes silently plotting the makings of an unmade bed. tussled from his satisfaction and smothered with my emptiness. his teeth are clenched because even though im beautiful, hes forgotten my name. 

a piece. 

a piece for all the faces that have faded. they each got a piece of their own. a piece to hold and hurt and wipe away their tears. a piece to mean something. expecting more and more of me, but eventually my laughs and smiles turned to eye rolls and ignored text messages. i lost the will the be accepted and gained the responsibility of misery. not after long they left. ultimately being my fault. i didnt think it would bother me, until i realized how many of them there was. 

a chunk. 

a chunk for every knife thats stabbed me in the back. promised me one thing, while doing another. reminding me how terrible i am. how many mistakes ive made. then watching them desperately trying to pull it out and act like nothing happened. act like the scars dont exsist. act like it was my fault in the first place. i guess it was. 

a wedge. 

a wedge for the boy who held me for days. held my hand and my hair and my waist.  i dont think i stopped smiling the entire year he ran his fingers through my hair. your smell is wedged in my pillows and the feel of your lips is wedged in places of me i cant bare to let another explore. the pieces of you that you left with me arent worth much. nothing compared to the piece i gave you. 
i know why i feel so empty. because i have nothing left to give. 

take these memories; give me back my moments

do you think of me? 

do you think of me when you drive past a convertible as candy apple red as mine? how we used to drive around for hours; music blaring, clearing our minds, fingers intertwined. getting lost and pulling into abandon parking lots at 2am. do you see my seat covers and remember our arguments? over whether mcdonalds or burger kings fries are better. or whose turn it was to drive home. 

do you think of me? 

do you think of me when you hear my music? the songs i forced you to listen to? the songs you became familiar with as i became familiar with your body? do you stumble across an underground rapper and want to tell me about them? or miss me texting you lyrics at 7am? along with words of encouragement when you needed an extra push. do you ever look up to the stands and look for my smile? 

do you think of me? 

do you think of me when she whispers in your ear? or as she bites her lips and fulfills all my promises to you? can you still taste my lips and smell my perfume? i bet she does things that remind you of me, but i hope she doesnt  do them as well. when you lock yours with those chocolate eyes, do you ever see mine? my big brown eyes looking up at you, gleaming because youre mine. youd always be mine. or so we thought. 

do you think of me? 

do you think its me when you get a call at 3am? barely able to speak but clear enough to remind you how in love with you i am? do you ever get worried that i am lost again? or falling in parking lots on clear august nights? when you see a girl throwing back shots do you remember the times i tried to out drink you but ended up swaddled in your arms. does it bother you that you are no longer my midnight kiss? or the arms i run into? do you realize im no longer there? 

i think of you. 

i think of you when the lights turn down. i think of how calm your hands felt trying to steady mine. i think of your smell, even though i washed it away months ago. i think of you when he kisses my neck. and him. and him. i look for you in the drivers seat of every grey truck passing by. i think about our snapchats, our songs, our jokes, our words, our love. i think of you when people tell me im too much. i think of how many times you told me you didn’t hate me, that you never could.  i still think about texting you. i still think you were the best thing to ever happen to me. 

i think about trading all our memories for our moments back.