I’ll come out when I’m ready

And I just…

I just need some time
reading novels under a
sturdy blanket fort with
a flashlight and tea to
repair the bits of my
heart and soul that
have been increasingly
worn away by reality.

BB

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Awakening.

We woke up and were

devastated to find

that the world had not

gotten better

while we slept.

 

War of the Words

Sticks and stones
may break your bones
but words can massacre you.

Pulled from a quiver
like arrows they deliver
a perfect execution.

Then the infection to fear
that can last up to years
sometimes you never heal.

So if I am threatened
with words or with weapons
I’ll chance it against the stones.

BB

Help Eachother

I was once a beautiful statue
standing in a square
and people would come
from all over the world and
offer me their broken hearts.

I would take a little handful of
the cool clay that made my being
and I would fill in the cracks
to make those embattled hearts
stronger then ever.

More and more people made a
pilgrimage to see me and soon
I had to take plaster from my
arms and legs and body until
there was no material left for me.

It seemed that everybody knew
where to find me when they
needed a little extra help but
when they were fixed they forgot
to return and repay the kindness.

Please remember that those
who allow you to lean on them
sometimes need help too
but they will keep on giving clay
until it runs out.

Do not let them become
an empty platform in a square
where a beautiful statue
used to reside.

BB

We Should Not Be Comfortable

One day the sun stopped
shining in the sky.

Every major city burned
pyres of wood so they could see.

When the logs ran out
they used dreams instead.

The dreams lit up like horrible
beautifully efficient infernos.

We were so fucking hollow
once our dreams became ash.

We were paper thin but we told
ourselves that at least we were warm.

We sacrificed our ideals and dreams
lest we might become uncomfortable.

BB

To anyone feeling a little lost, I am right there with you.

I am an elevator midway
between one and another floor
just another lost soul with one
foot in and one out the door.
I am every single stupid
damn glittering metaphor
of a heart beating restless and
hands that can’t help wanting more-
an aching whimper when
I am used to being a roar!
But how do I begin the
future I know is in store
to stop being a line in a poem
and become the stuff of lore?

BB

Flight Material

Just a fun fact that I’ll
share with you tonight
is that I pack novels
on any given flight;
it’s a little bit funny
and I can tell you why
I care about what I’m reading
on the off chance I will die.

If the plane should crash
and the ground it will hit
I think I will be grateful
that I wasn’t reading shit.
I’ve had some sketchy flights
full of turbulence and dips
but it comforts me to know
I’d die with Vonnegut on my lips.

BB

We were so damn mean
to each other and I
have never been so
cruel since.

I think we were
so terrible because we
knew that eventually
we were going to end.

We could blame our
failure on our icy
hearts instead of
admitting we were just
too scared to try.

BB

Lighthouse Melodrama

I told you that if
you were to die before me
I would become a
lighthouse operator on
some desolate shore
with my typewriter
tapping out novels and
poetry while a
tugboat delivered my
food and letters
twice a week.

You replied that it was
just like me to
romanticize the fear
that grips my heart
and to be plotting
my escape already
but that I would not
survive with such an
absence of attention.

I do not think you
understand how much
I like you or
how little I like people
who aren’t you.

BB