✨Bee Lizz✨

Name: B Lizz 🐝

Fav Color: Green 🍀

[TW: Mentions of sh, su!cide, death, other stuff like that]

I tell you now the twisted tale,

The drastic change of view,

The remedies were sure to fail,

They only work for few.

So pity her, she never knew

What all the cures might do!

It starts real dim,

In shades of grey, 

When tired sorrows plagued her day, 

She grasped at reasons, one or two?

Or maybe three to stay.

The blades were cold, 

The tears were hot,

In terms of feeling, she could not. 

She found her words and used her head, 

What shall they know when she is dead?

She poured her heart on every page,

The words were stark and raw.

But time does pass, 

The morgue stays quiet, 

Except an old crows “caw.”

She found her spark, 

And day by day, 

Pushed pain and sorrow far away. 

She had her cake, a thing that you

Can never have and eat it too.

A rush that chills the backs of heads, 

The thoughts that fill stomachs with dread, 

Like Jesus nailed onto the cross, 

She, caged within her flesh, 

Looked up from counting all her losses and asked,

“Why have you forsaken me?”

She ate less now, make no mistake,

Her stomach turned and turned, 

With every bite she dared to take,

It’d make her lessons learned. 

Each word a prayer,

Each breath a gasp,

She fought for air, 

For peace to last.

The Doc said they'd fix her right up,

With pills and drills, (and lots of luck),

So she thanked them and meant it, 

Although she'd resent the casualty they'd all fain.

She took the meds and hoped they'd make her sane.

But the pills taste like pain,

They melt her down to the floor,

And though one does sustain,

After one, she craves more.

The quiet steps out into night,

The spacious rooms with tiled floors,

When sneaking out, she felt no fright,

Such contrast lied beyond those doors. 

It struck her with the strangest thought, 

unspoken there but here it's not. 

She pities the rich. 

And all of their stuff,

She wants to be poor, 

As poor as dirt. 

Compact in the ground, 

Unbeknownst to hurt.

She's scared of nothingness, 

Yes, she is. 

She craves the world,

But claims she'd give. 

She's good at heart, 

But says she's not,

She's humble in that way.

Well, no she's not, she's filled with greed,

With constant envy, churning need.

But one thing can be sure of her,

She's true enough to say,

That's she's not right, she's very wrong, 

And so’s the world and so’s her mom.

Perhaps a waste, this whole damn spiel,

But ask me now and I'll reveal, 

That I am her, and she is me, 

And still I long for destiny, 

I still look up, the clouds a sea, 

And ask whoever may be listening,

“Why have you forsaken me?!”

I miss the pain, 

The sanity that came from feeling insane, 

The bravery in which I held my own scythe, 

Was sure to make the reaper cave, 

Such power I had that now I feel like worshipping who I used to be as if she is some entity. 

Does God take us on paths to make us who we're meant to be? 

I need him to be real and not some imaginary friend the lonely child in me has come to see. 

So I'll keep taking the pills, 

And I'll keep praying, 

And day by day, I'll be okay somehow.

Although I fear the passing years,

They go on without my say, 

And all the ones I wasted,

Wishing them away,

I’m sure by now I’ve worked the gears,

I’ve learned a lot and grown a lot,

And gratitude is owed a lot,

To those who’ve lent their ears.

Idk who (if anyone) needs to hear this but this is your reminder that it is perfectly fine to enjoy a piece of media unironically no matter how many people hate it or will jokingly make fun of people liking it.

You are allowed to like stuff and no amount of negativity people have towards something should impact your ability to enjoy it without feeling judged or enjoy it in general.

Take it from me, someone who hardly ever dislikes something, it's much more fun to just own it :)

~ all images from pinterest and put together on pinterest ~

Is it meant to be a book? Is it meant to be a movie? Is it meant to be in the trash?