My muse…

We don’t know each other You know my darkness 

You know my past 

But we don’t know each other 

Not really, not completely 

You’re just learning how crazy I really am 

And with every new quirk 

Every nutty thing I let you see 

I am inspired 

I have never had a muse before 

But every time I explain my little crazy quirks, the beauty of them, the way I see things 

The words, the emotions, the beauty… I just… I need to get it out… I need to get it all out 

So, my muse, this is to you and all the beauty that you bring forth
-B. 8-19-17

Loneliness 

Why does it seem to always hit in the evenings? Taunting me until I numb myself to sleep. 

I used to be a social butterfly, you know? Nowadays, everyone seems to have their own lives, 

left behind the old… 

left behind me. 

I don’t blame them. 

I have my own life, My own future

but the nighttime is when it hurts. 

When it gets quiet 

and I don’t mean during the middle of the night 

because those are the best hours to be alone 

but at the end of the day. 

Those are the worst. 

Everything, winding down. 

So much buzzing through your mind 

and no one to share it with. 

Those are the moments when you need someone the most. 

Even if just one soul reached out, 

into my darkness….
-B. Summer 2017

Your words…

You’re words drip from your lips, like the dew drops on the tips of blades of freshly cut grass. 

Pulling me closer into your madness, your storm… 

and I, I have lost control.
-B. Summer 2017

Too much noise…

Sometimes, you need to shut out the noise of this world, this life. You need to

the noise coming at you from everything in your life…it serves you no good. 

If you, don’t shut it out once in a while, you’ll miss the beauty of things, the little things. 

Like, the cracks in a sidewalk where a blade of grass will pop up and grow because nature decided to fight back. 

The grooves and cracks in the bark of trees; where there are thousands of little secrets waiting for you. 

The dew drops that grow on the tips of the blades of grass, on a cool misty autumn morning. 

The way the air smells, when you breathe it into your lungs after a summer shower. The way the sunset turns purple when the seasons turn colder.

These are the things we miss because of all the noise.
-B. Summer 2017

Journals 

In a sense, people, the ones you talk to about your day, your hopes, dreams, your secrets, your past, your entire life…The people you let into your world 

The ones you let see every nook and cranny 

Those people, those rare, amazing people… 

they are like journals, in a way. 

The ones you talk to, to figure things out… but really you are having a conversation with yourself 

They don’t judge nor look at you funny 

They just listen because you are the story that fascinates them 

You are the story that they will remember 

And one day, when you are gone, the words you spoke to them, will resonate, deep in their hearts, in their souls… because they are the unwritten journals you chose to trust in

They will be the ones who write your biography

They will keep you alive… 
-B. 8-19-17

Funny faces…

You led me into your bedroom I was nervous, scared

You knew of the trauma I had incurred 

But you didn’t pressure me 

You didn’t do any of that 

You laid with me 

Talked with me 

Then, like kindred spirits 

Like the puzzle pieces we are 

In our own little world

Time stopped 

Just you and I 

And you, amazingly you, made me feel safe 

You started making funny faces 

Funny faces with those amazing blue eyes

Funny faces reminiscent of ones I too would make 

Because in that, little world, where time stopped 

It was ours

Our little, weird world…
-B. 8-18-17

Rocky start.

I’m not the brightest star in the sky You’ve seen my demons faces more often than I’d like 

You’ve stayed up with me, checked up on me, when my darkness tries to consume me 

You’ve heard my story, my past, my battles, my journeys through hell 
When you look at me, you don’t see any of that 

In your sky, I’m not a dim lit star 

You look at me, listen to me and you understand 

I know you do because you know my darkness

And I, I don’t see you as a dim star

In my sky, you are the brightest star 
Our beginning, a rocky start 

But it’s our beginning 

You told me, “you want this.” 

After all you’ve seen 

So maybe we aren’t the brightest stars 

But in each other’s sky, we are… 

We fit… 

remember, you said? 

“Puzzle pieces.” 

Maybe, ones made of stars…
-B. 8-16-17