I’m sorry Tamir.
I’m sorry that you grew up in a world where you, a child, weren’t given the shadow of a doubt.
I’m sorry that you were tried and executed because of the color of your skin.
I’m sorry that you still won’t get justice.
I’m sorry that the system is so obviously stacked against you.
I’m sorry that you lived and died in a world that could have been better and so many chose to ignore it.
-b.e.
Love is a wave.
Rushing at you like water towards the shore.
It’ll wash away stones leaving beautiful memories behind.
Shiny little shells, each with a story to tell.
It’ll crash into you and knock you back a step.
And as it rushes back, it pulls you deeper.
Slowly, little by little, until all at once,
you’re wrapped in waves and carried out to sea.
-b.e.
It’s hard not to feel forgotten
To take every text or short word to heart.
Believing even the simplest note has much more meaning behind it then it truest does.
It’s hard to quiet the voice in the back of your head.
The one constantly whispering that what you think is true.
Yes, he thinks your wrong.
Yes of course she took it personally
Of course they don’t think you’re good enough.
It’s a constant struggle.
A battle between one voice and another.
One that never really ends.
-b.e.
That someone who loves you,
That someone who frames your only published poem like it’s won a Pulitzer,
Who believes in you so much even you can’t help but to believe you can do anything.
That person believes you’re already the writer you want to be.
They are holding the book, pages longing for script.
They are worth all of it.
They are worth every last drop of ink.
-b.e.
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.
It’s so loud
Deafening, ear piercingly loud
Soft split seconds punctuated by a crash.
-b.e.
Turns out
Knowing what you want to do for your life at 18 isn’t all that normal.
Turns out
Going to school and getting a job and then changing your mind ten years into it, happens.
Turns out
That you don’t have to have your life figured out when you graduate.
Turns out
You can say “screw it” at 35 and decide to start writing.
Turns out
It’s just as scary and just as hard but twice as fulfilling.
Turns out
It’s never too late to pursue your dreams.
-b.e.
if 2020 taught me anything
it’s that we’re all broken
we all need a little grace
from time to time
-b.e.
There’s a nagging feeling
At the back of mind
Like I should be busy doing something
Something isn’t being done
Cleaning? No
Reading? Most likely no
Writing? Maybe
I should be doing something
The question is,
What?
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.
b.e. poetry: A place for my words 