I love them they’re so cool
But they’ll leave me to play pool
I love you do you love me
Cuz you’ll leave me soon as can be
there my favorite people
Wouldn’t trade yall for the world
Would you trade me
Or just leave me
Left teary
While you say you don’t want me
And I talk unnecessarily
So I shut mouth
Say I didn’t wanna come
You say your glad
You can tell I’m mad
But I still love you
And you still go

I call and I text, I hope and I pray,
Because there’s no one left, no one here to stay.
You’re busy with friends and I’m done saying please
I knew it was coming, the sound of the bees

You’ve climbed so high while I’m below
And you start to hear the bees temptation in the echo
I sit here and write, while you sit and laugh,
Stuck thinking of times when my heart wasn’t half.

I still remember when honey wasn’t scarce,
When I wasn’t left alone, caught in despair.
When others stripped ur pollen, and the garden bare
I had other flowers with plenty to share.

Flowers so elegant so white and crisp
It only lasted a while- a while of bliss
No
And though honey is sweet and bees are brave
They sting when scared, leaving them in the grave
But when desperation meets temptation ur left with our expiration
So now you’re up there with bees fitting in seamlessly

And so should I because flowers are overrated
Let my heart feel- no longer sedated

And though you were my only flower,
I’m not gonna cower
I don’t call or text nor hope or pray
there’s no one left, no one here to stay.

As she walks around, tiptoeing about,
Judging herself so filled with doubt.
Conform, compress, and pay the dues—
The audience smiles at the pointe shoes.

The air felt warm on a tightened chest,
Urgency excused the hurt she pressed.
Forced to step and leave a mess.

The stage creaked with every leap,
Cracked and crumbled, she let pieces seep.
When souls so kind are forced to break,
the warm air shakes in a state of quake.

Oh, am I the cause of these broken boards?
Or was it rotten wood no one restored?

Toes blistered where the thought fell by
The aching hush of silent cries.
The pointe shoes take their final steps.
She only wished to see the stage rest.

But still, the pieces kept on falling.
It was never her or even the crowd calling.
Oh, it was the rain above and warm summer air
That left the stage in a state of despair.

A soul no longer trapped by the crowd ahead
Or being the cause of the stages death—
Hearts move on to carry other burdens,
How will she think for herself with no more curtains?