bee
oh the cruel irony
of having to hide something
you used to love so dearly
i see a bee buzz by
i feel a pain in my chest
i see my old posters on my floor
i ignore the pang and try to rest
sure, it’s for morals
better to start to support others
than support those who have hurt you
but there’s still something sad about
breaking down
destroying
hiding
something that once brought you so much joy
and sometimes i wonder
“will the things that make me happy
make me hurt in a year’s time?”
but i push that thought away
and write another rhyme
that is so real :(












