the things i remember
are not the ones you would think
the dark purple glow of the stairs
leading to an underground comedy club
low lighting and fallen ceiling in a crowded room
chairs and tables that hadn’t been changed since the 80s
crowding around a tiny cafe table with you, our friend and his flavor of the month
i don’t remember the act
you tell me it was bill burr
i don’t even remember the jokes
but I remember feeling joy
absolute joy
and laughter
i remember walking to the metro
being stopped buy a movie set
60s era cars racing through our eye line
like we’d traveled through time
i remember walking through the streets of D.C
lit up by democracy and capitalism but mostly i remember
taking your hand
and living for the moment
Category Archives: the past
Memories
My sister remembers our life so differently than I do.
My mind blocks it out. Darkens the memory like an empty room
Hers illuminates it. Recalling conversations and arguments with precise details.
She remembers the trauma, so I don’t have to.
-b.e.
Always
I loved him Long before I knew him The more I knew him The deeper I fell Despite everything We were always meant to be -b.e.
The House My Mother Grew Up In
I remember the smell I don’t know if it was perfume Or just antique furniture But it was dust and love mixed into one I remember the light streaming through the kitchen windows Early morning breakfasts At the nook table in the corner next to the washer. My grandfathers garden right outside the back door. Red painted fencing, large pepper plants The stairs to the massive basement around the kitchen corner This was the house my mother grew up in. A large wood burning stove right in the middle of the living room Wood paneling on the walls That classic White Jesus painting on the hallway wall A huge bay window with lace curtains in the living room I remember a pink carpet but I can’t say for sure. My sister and I slept on the floor in the family room. On blankets and sleeping bags A large glass display shelf With equal amounts of porcelain babies And modern model race cars There was brick somewhere A large front yard Maybe a garage but it’s been too long. This was the house my mother grew up in. Faint memories are all I have left. -b.e.
Query
Do you ever think of me? Like I think of you? It happens randomly And then all at once One minute there’s nothing And then a flash A memory A query Are you ok? Are you happy? What are you doing right now? It’s not longing Or love Just curiosity You took up so much of my life You were so important For such a long time Until you weren’t. And once in a while I just wonder What you’re doing now -b.e.
The Walk
His hand brushed mine ever so gently. Just enough to know he was close. My heart raced uncontrollably My face disguised in the night. the shadows of the trees, the moonlit wisps on the walk. crickets sang out the tension, with only just one note. our fingers intertwined. his hand embraced in mine. the warmth of the night. of our skin, of my heart. exposed in just one time. He smiled without a word. Gently squeezed my palm our lives forever changed. in that moment on the walk -b.e.
Eileen
I was only eleven Maybe twelve Old enough to know it was wrong But not enough to fully understand Old enough to want so desperately to be “in” But not enough to know it wasn’t worth it Every day we walked to school Every day we sat at together Thick as thieves My first best friend And then one day they came They said we could join them The cool kids It seems cliche as fuck now after a week or so she pulled me aside She said I had to choose I couldn’t be friends with them And be friends with you too The next morning I handed you a note. And we never spoke again. I made a choice. There’s no excuse. But I still think about it. Even now, in my thirties I still think about you. I wish I could tell you That I’m sorry I wish I could tell you That I got my due That she hurt me as much as I hurt you I learned that year that real friends never make you choose. -b.e.
Her
I don’t like to think of her. She brings up too much anger. She had her own shit going on. It makes it hard to hate her. If not for her, and her prodding, I would have never seen you. If not for her pushing me I might have never loved you. She messed with us. She messed with you. She broke your heart and mine. But as she played and broke us She actually made us stronger Her messed up life worked out for us. And for that much I owe her. -b.e.
b.e. poetry: A place for my words 