i am not limited by your perception of me
i am who i am
and it’s taken me a long time to figure that out
to learn what is me
and what was forced on me by you
what was carved into me by you
it’s been painful
to peel back each layer
to question what i thought was myself
and find out that it’s not
to discover me
the pure unadulterated version of who i am
for that i will be forever grateful
-b.e.
It should have been you.
But it wasn’t.
And now I’m mourning a relationship that never existed.
-b.e.
My mind knows it’s not worth it.
That it’s not worth getting angry.
But my body hasn’t figured that out.
My body is tired, tired of constantly being in fight or flight mode.
Tired of choosing fight and regretting it instantly.
The persistent buzz just beneath the surface of my skin.
The swarm of angry bees ready to fight.
My body exhausted, using up energy to smoke them into submission.
But if I don’t,
If I knock the hive and let them loose,
I won’t be the only person stung.
-b.e.
Life will not get the best of you.
You have to fight it.
Prove it wrong.
Prove to the universe that you will not be toppled like a fallen kingdom.
You are worthy of the battle.
You will take a hit and then swing back.
Life will kick you down.
Shove your face into the mud.
You will fight back.
You will push your way back to your feet.
You will triumph over the bruised and bloodied field.
You will be stronger, wiser, smarter.
You are worthy of the crown.
Who you are in this moment,
Is exactly who you are needed to be.
Embrace it.
Embrace you.
Live within yourself
just be
-b.e.
Salt in the air
A fresh breath of life.
The soft give of sand under foot,
Warmth of the sun across my face.
Shades of blue and gold along a blank canvas of amber.
I never was more at peace than painting by the sea.
-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.
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.
We walked down the hallway around students and lockers I have a gift for you they said “it’s for Christmas but it’s early” I had a feeling, sinking in my gut what was once a normal moment was now about to change They handed me a bracelet simple, plain, and black a silver heart locket affixed to the back still rushing through the hallway almost late for class I brushed my fingers over the beads as they sat cold in my hands the locket had their mother’s name etched with a tiny heart I knew in that very moment what this gift was meant to be I can’t accept this its lovely but I can’t I know it means so much to you but it’s not the same to me They ripped the bracelet from my hand quickened their step and ran I called their name my heart sank I lost a friend that day with just a simple gift -b.e.
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.
b.e. poetry: A place for my words 