bee06019

[bee06019]

In The End, It's All Okay

It's okay, to be the monster sometimes, in someone else's story

It's okay, to not get the closure that you want within you, the one you want to give onto them

It's okay, to right your wrongs in private, away from those you've sinned against

It's okay, to think about them, to miss them, from time to time

It's okay, to be sad and to ache, on the person you weren't, the person you couldn't be

It's okay, to miss the peaceful past, of someone you've shared an intimate amount of time with

It's okay, to be confused, on what was, what should've been, what wasn't, what isn't anymore

It's okay, to cry and cry consistently, if only for a while

It's okay, that lots of things could've gone differently, but didn't in the end

It's okay, to want better in the long run, for you and for them

It's okay, that in the end, you're still a monster with validated feelings

It's okay, to go through the waves in your feelings, until you get it right

It's okay, if your time wasn't right, you loved the way you were able to with the best that you could at the time

It's okay, to learn to let go

It's okay, to finally say goodbye

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[bee06019]

They’ll have you feel like you’re asking for too much. Truth is, they can’t offer much. It’s like I’m expecting a fountain quality from a drain individual.

k.b // by jerry flowers jr

[bee06019]

Creativity, Where?

There's hardly any time for creativity.

When you wake up in the morning, after hitting that snooze time after time, five back to back.

When all you want to do it toss and turn.

There's hardly any time for creativity.

When you're fighting to open those heavy eyelids to be productive in one way or another, if only for a little bit.

When all you're doing is contemplating whether or not to go back to sleep.

There's hardly any time for creativity.

When you rush for breakfast, heading out the door

To not miss that late bus and get to work on time.

There's hardly any time for creativity.

When you're trying to be kind and fast and multi tasking at work.

Just to look like you really ARE worth the twenty dollars an hour.

There's hardly any time for creativity.

During your unpaid forty five

When your stomach is rumbling and you just take a big sigh of relief.

When you're just on YouTube trying to find something to watch or on Spotify with that song on repeat.

There's hardly any time for creativity.

Clocking out for the day, heading back home.

When all you want to do is throw yourself on the mattress and let it consume you.

There's hardly any time for creativity.

When you have to suck it up and be a parent because your minions need you, one way or another.

Because you have to cook something, clean something, or look up something.

There's hardly any time for creativity.

When it's time to tuck your tiny lovelies to sleep.

And you finally have free time for yourself, if only an inch.

But your body is exhausted, and you try your hardest to stay up a little longer.

There's hardly any time for creativity.

How do you do it? How do you do it efficiently? Effectively?

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[bee06019]

[bee06019]

Seen But Not Heard

In my house it was always to be seen but never heard. It didn't matter unless you were dying You were to never interrupt and you spoke when spoken too Any time they had friends over Find me off in the corner, coloring a Rugrats coloring book scared that the sound of crayon on paper might get to them Because if I was heard, they'd be heard And I'm constantly in the way

Parties every weekend, when I hide in my room Learning voices of music and keeping my headphones Some habits are hard to break Across the hall, there's a snowstorm happening in their room I know because they don't always close the door all the way I used to always wonder why they put powdered sugar on the mirror

Soon it was to be hidden and not heard I wasn't a cute little kid with crayons anymore I was an angry teenager dressed in black putting holes in his bedroom walls Just so I can feel something in my swelling knuckles And across the hall, they keep their door locked now I never see behind the cracks

Soon I didn't matter at all, as bitter divorce shows it's fangs Even the blizzards couldn't keep a loveless marriage alive At first it was depression at the fact that my family had fallen But it quickly faded, when I realized that this wasn't the first time And I watched in silence, hiding in the corner with my crayons drawing pictures that would disturb any guidance counselor For some reason, I have to see her once a week

At eighteen I said goodbye, with a slamming door and a "fuck you" I moved in with my dad until I could get on my feet And now that I was an adult, I was seen, I was heard Just never in a way that anybody could really understand and soon enough it started to flurry a little bit in my world Finally understanding how to bake something off of reflective glass

In my home, it is always hide and be silent I've never really figured out how to adjust the volume Things get built into us as we age in our lives Habits become permanant enclosures in our dangerous zoo Each new thought processed is a new animal that kills Apex predators hide best when they grab hold of dying words

She tried to listen to me, but that's all on her I gave her fair warning that my mind is a wasteland she played caretaker until she'd find me overwhelmed locked inside a closet with broken crayons I don't blame her at all for when she couldn't take it at all Always heard, but never seen

And soon enough, off to new friend's living room floor drowning a flood of brown liquors and beer stained nights How is it I never got to see how this ends And she came out of nowhere, seeing me. Hearing me. For the first and only time in my life, I knew what it was to be human to be loved, cared for, heard, seen, wanted.

But things don't last forever in this world we go through And soon enough I wasn't seen, and I wasn't heard Alone in a city with nothing worth grabbing I lived in pits of heartbreak, dragons, snow, and fungus Walking along sidewalks of violence even the muggers couldn't see me they couldn't hear me

Until she appeared, dragging me by the neck into her arm Pretending to listen and see but in the process starting the grooming I was seen, but I was clay and I was heard, but I was static Miable, pliable, building blocks of what she wanted She held red crayons and used them to drain my blood Her little project

I escaped in the quiet of domestic abuse excuses I claim no sainthood by my hands And she couldn't claim her innocense forever I take my undeserved punishment, in a cage always seen always heard

Now I've learned from all these lessons And I've taken them as the gospel of my life Chris 8:15. Make sure you are seen, and make sure you are heard I've written this in crayon and the margins of a SpongeBob coloring book.

[bee06019]

Tales From A Broken Heart

You're not the one I wanted, not in the slightest

You never crossed my mind, not in that type of way

You were just someone I passed a glimpse on from time to time

And it was meant to stay just that, but it didn't

You're not the one I wanted, but you were the nicest

The more I caught glimpses of you, the more I was glad to see you time after time

The more we talked, the more we laughed and I felt comfortable enough to be silly

And it wasn't supposed to go beyond that, but life had a different plan

You're not the one I wanted, but you were the sweetest

Like the snap of a finger, just fooling around turned into something more

And then came the moments where I was sad not seeing you around

And it should've stopped there, but things blossomed

You're the one I started catching feelings for

From your morning texts to your post it notes

To drinking and laughing and playing games together

Were some of the happiest moments of the year for me, up until it wasn't

You're the one I started resenting

The honeymoon bubble popped and you got on my nerves as I did yours

I felt unheard, I had no privacy, no space, no time ...even when I tried to leave, you wouldn't have it

And things would have been fine if they ended there, but it kept getting worse

You're the one I kept driving myself insane over

I wouldn't listen to reason because I already had the initial reaction to hate you

You took away the best thing that meant the world to me, myself, and I couldn't get it back

And I wished I listened when I was warned to keep my distance, but I was an idiot

You're the one I tried to distance myself from

For rich or for poor, you were constantly around, I had no room to breathe

For better or for worse, I hated you from my core, and all the arguments didn't help either

And I wasn't the best either, we both deserved better

You're the one I suffered with

From an alternate life that was given to us as fast as God took it away

To seeing you from the other side of a bullet proof glass

And many other events that life threw at us, I didn't know how we'd come out of alive

You're the one that left me speechless

After pushing buttons for such a long time, here I am, suffering

Singing and crying my soul out, because you broke my fucken heart

And that's something neither of us can take back

How do I let go of someone I never wanted?

How do I let go of someone I got so used to and clung onto?

How do I let go of someone I denied getting close to that I kept pushing away?

How do I let go of someone that broke me at the end?

.....of someone I never really had?

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[bee06019]

....Sincerely Yours.... 😔

Here I am, the one hurting. Because in a stupid way, I still care for selfish reasons. Because I like that you like me even when I don't like you back. Because at the very beginning I really did like you. And then at some random point in life, I caught stronger feelings that I didn't want to admit. Because I am my most inscure since you have been in my life. And no, not all of it is you, but some of it is. For not respecting my time and privacy and space. And then I just became resentful. I want to keep you, more because I got used to you. But I also want to let you go. I need to be in love with me, again. When I was writing a lot. When I was gymming a lot. When I was doodling a lot. Because as of right now, I am nothing. I am no one. I am just existing. I am not living. For everything I was. For everything I wasn't. For the things I did and said that i can't take back. I am truly sorry. I don't have any ill mannerisms towards you. I hope you grow up and find happiness too. Because the way things are, we can't truly be.

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[bee06019]

[bee06019]

I long to kill the writers block fairy

[bee06019]

....when you're typing a piece after a long extended writer's block and you accidentally delete it by the click of a button.

#my writing #writer stuff #writing #creative writing #writers #on writing

[bee06019]

What makes you a writer?

If you write, that makes you a writer.

Haven’t written in a while but want to get back to it?

You’re a writer.

Haven’t published yet or don’t plan to?

You’re a writer.

Only write fanfiction?

You’re a writer.

Don’t have any readers?

STILL A WRITER!

[bee06019]

Writers who can draw too

Those motherf*ckers

You don't have the faintest idea how lucky you are

You're awesome, keep it up

[bee06019]

Your presence, it still lingers heavy in the air. No matter where I go, what I do, you are there too.

The things I think about and keep quietly in my head, I'll save them in a folder that's labeled with your name. Because you were the only one I truly felt I can open up and be myself to. Inside jokes will stay just that until those sounds escape my lips and make their way into your ears.

The songs I listen to. The verses that help me calm down from a struggling day, you are there too. In the lyrics that I hear on repeat, songs that remind me of times together with you. Songs that I newly find, that I save into a folder in hopes to show you one day. The heart that beats to the same guitar cord, you are still there.

In my creativity. Things I write, stanzas I wrote, you are still there. Pieces I would love to write about that I haven't made the time for because a creative brain doesn't stop at one, you are the fuel for most things, you are the fuel for this.

In many aspects of my life you are still my reality. But the reality of it is is that you are not around. Not around for my accomplishments. Not for my turmoils. Not to help me out or hold me close.

So are you even really there? You continue to live in me and not with me, my Casper the Friendly Ghost.

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[bee06019]

How do I win when all I do is lose When I'm pinned in a corner with no room to breathe With your finger imprints around my neck Squeezing, holding me tighter by the second Where it wouldn't matter if I kick or scream for an ounce of breath You will still be there to cry wolf and say you're not doing anything wrong as you stare at me in the eyes and watch mine start to pop out of it's sockets As I begin to cry a bloody river Hovering over me, your buttocks on my chest I can hear the cracks, my ribs shredding into a million pieces Piercing my insides as I have no place to run, no place to go How do I win when I can't How do I live when you want me dead The fear that one day you'll be the last thing that I see alive You will be there crying as you arrange my funeral and lie to my kids

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[bee06019]

Hello, 35!

It'll be almost a year before I get the chance to meet you, face to face. I am nervous, scared shitless. I am giddy with a million questions that I don't want the answers too. Because as curious as I am of your life and how you got to the places you did, I also want to find out, first hand.

Will I live up to your expectations?

Will I have seen the same things that you have seen? Loved the way you did? Cry and bleed and smile just as much?

You're starting to show up again, vaguely. Like tiny clips. You're driving, I know that, reversing your car. Still in your dark clothes, but more skin showing in a body more slim.

I can't wait to meet you next year, and I hope we can get along like the last time we caught up a few years ago when we had a cup of Joe.

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[bee06019]

Good Morning To Me

I woke up this morning for the usual routine.

To empty my bladder. Try to eat breakfast, something that accompanies eggs, like pancakes or oatmeal. To wake up the boys and have them get ready for school as I get ready for work myself.

But today felt different.

I finally stopped snoozing my alarms after they beeped three to five different times. I got up, headed to the bathroom, peed and stood on the weight scale, an intriguing 160.6.

But I felt empty inside.

It wasn't because of you either ShortStack. I felt truly alone, truly empty.

I no longer felt pregnant.

I don't know why exactly, today of all days. Maybe because my morning blood clots stopped. Was it because I was hardly bleeding or spotting? Was it because I stopped craving sweets?

This morning was not the same, for I am no longer pregnant. And I didn't even know it yet.

Maybe it'll be easier to let you go ShortStack, with no baby involved. With no fetus tying us together when we aren't ready. It hurts like a bitch, and I really did love you, even if I wasn't the best at expressing it. Me, the creative one. Who knew?!!!

The hurt will stop one day. I will think of you less .....in due time.

Good morning, I am no longer pregnant.

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[bee06019]

How do I remain strong on my own?

How do I hold my head up high when I am still an immature child?

When push comes to shove, how will I keep it all together and not fall into pieces?

For you,

For me,

Most especially .....for these boys.

Will I be able to make magic happen and pull through?

How can I inhale all this pain that'll be bottling up, just like before?

How can I fuse that into something positive?

Into something great?

We may have had our ups and downs,

We've shared many things

And even though things will never be the same again

.....how do I let go?

How do I remain strong on my own?

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