b e mccomb Aug 7
i dread the day you learn
for the first time that
you can't just love all
the darkness in me away

and no matter how much
you care i will still toss
and turn at night and scars
might still appear on my skin

i dread the day you realize
that you can't cure me
and sometimes all you can do
is stand next to me and
hold my hand through fog
pouring out of my ears so black
and thick we can't even see
each other's faces

i dread the days i can't
get out of bed
the days you want to
take me out and all
i can manage is a prettified
shell of myself

i dread the day you learn
that sometimes no matter
how hard i try i still can't
pull myself together

the day you learn that
there isn't an answer
you can give that will
save me from my fears

you aren't the first person
who has tried to love the
darkness inside away
my family and friends
have given it their all
but someday you too will learn
that if love could
cure mental illness
the world would be
a much better place
copyright 8/6/18 b. e. mccomb
b e mccomb Aug 6
when i look at my body
i have only ever seen
a topographical map of every
failure and self-loathing thought
that slowly destroyed it
neglected and broke it

but under your hands i
forget about all that and feel
flowers blooming from the cracks that
desolation left as your fingers and
kisses remind me that even crooked
trees still grow upwards and that

the most majestic of mountains
remain standing tall through time
uneffected by the scars and faults
that history left on stone
copyright 8/4/18 b. e. mccomb
  Jul 5 b e mccomb
i am learning to love myself
like he never could
and darling
i can feel flowers
growing from my scars
reaching for the sunshine
of my new found smile

b e mccomb Jul 3
maybe i'm just not used to
being kind to myself
not used to being
held or kissed or wanted

but something about the
way you touch me
makes me think that
years spent by myself
were preparation to
make me appreciate this

appreciate you
and the way your hands
fit around my legs
and settle on my back
how your lips run
down my neck and
our bodies just
fit together

"damn we make
a cute couple"
one of us says
every time we walk
hand in hand by a mirror
"where shall we go on
our next date to make
everyone jealous?"

and we laugh
and let sarcastic
comments run out word
by word between kisses

i'm not used to feeling
this way
part of a bigger picture
no longer a lone wolf
i'm not used to feeling

but something tells me
with you by my side
i could most certainly
learn to live with it
copyright 7/2/18 by b. e. mccomb
b e mccomb Jun 22
i spent the winter thinking
it was all a lost battle to me
until the leaves came out
shrouding the world in green

they say every
rose has it's thorns
but i've got a gizmo
to strip those off

one little ray of lost
sunlight found its way
through the ceiling crack and
now there's something
blossoming inside
my shriveled heart

notes scribbled in
sharpie on paper cups
and a kiss on each of
my freckled cheeks

vague shapes in
milkfoam and learning
to accept love that i am
not used to holding onto

i don't feel like i could fly
don't feel like i could dance
but i could tuck a fern behind
my ear and grab your hand
and we could skip
up the sidewalk

and like i could plant kisses
on the faces of everyone
who i have ever cared about
push them into that beam
of sun and watch the good
feelings begin to sprout until
one day our faces all flourish
into something no longer
dry and hopeless but something
more like smiles and cheer

they say to bloom
where you're planted

i say just have the strength
to make it through the
dormant phase and when
life begins to slip back towards
warmth and light the blooms
will find their way to you

some way
keep the flower
inside you alive
copyright 6/21/18 by b. e. mccomb
b e mccomb May 13
your car doesn't have
a cd player
which is a little unsettling
but i don't really mind

your hands remind
me of my dad's

i want to wear dresses
play taylor swift
spray myself in
citrusy perfume
and paint my eyelids
a shimmery pink

when i'm with you
i feel safe

i'm not convinced
that soulmates exist
but i am convinced that
we pick up people on
our way through life
and some of them just fit

some people are habit
can't remember a
time without them
and some people are the future
what could be instead of
what's always been

you're art in the foam on a cortado
you're a peach drenched in
heavy cream and limoncello
old overshirts and amaretto

you're champagne
and i'm the idiot
who intentionally
calls it "sham-pag-nee"

you can see through the
espresso stains on my
hands and arms right
down to freckles over scars

even if i slap myself to wipe
the pleasant look off my face
at the end of the day
you'll still think i'm cute

and when you say things
like that i start to feel all
gooey and underbaked
like a fallen cake with
cinnamon buttercream
melting down the sides
perfectly and
unabashedly flawed

i am selfish and afraid
and you don't seem to mind

so here's a toast to
letting someone new
into my life for
the first time
to allowing myself
to be vulnerable
and happy even if it
might be a mistake

because goodness knows
you're sweeter and softer
than i ever dreamed
someone could be
copyright 5/13/18 b. e. mccomb
b e mccomb May 10
the sun is creeping towards
the horizon under the trees
and a sliver of moon is
all that remains of night

my chest
is tight
with heavy
dull twinges

and though i always
long for things to break
up my monotonous routine
a funeral on a thursday
morning in spring was not
exactly what i had in mind

yesterday was recycling
to the curb and while i
ripped apart boxes a
staple stabbed my finger

the sight of blood only
increased the palpitations
under my skin and i've been
trying to forget it for twelve hours

trying to forget
what's coming
ignore the sense of
gloom pooling around
my ankles and the anxiety
wound round my wrists

i just have to make it
through the morning
into the afternoon and
then i can tell the racing
thoughts in my head to
stop what they're doing

and they will
obey me

would it be too much
just to ask for a hug?
copyright 5/10/18 b. e. mccomb
the worst part about funerals is that they aren't really for the deceased, they're for the living that are left
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