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honeycomb lips,
swarms of bees on your tongue,
hives on your heart,
a Queen bee is your soul.

buzzing, buzzing, buzzing,

all in my ears,
now a taste of my tears,
straight after I got stung.

buzzing, buzzing, buzzing,

there she goes,
only protecting her sweet,
nectar is her love,
but I found myself allergic to bees.

buzzing, buzzing, buzzing.
It’s red and burnt and there’s nothing more beautiful.
You look like an oasis.
I feel myself melting the second I see your face.
It’s like I’m baking in this oven and there’s nothing more lovely.
You smell like all of my favorite foods with a voice like honey.
You wear my favorite color well and with every passing moment I can feel my heart swell.
I find myself aching to see you smile and to make you laugh.
I would love for you to be as fond of me as I have grown of you even if the feeling is only at half.
When the trumpets roar I feel this sense of peace and I think of the words you say so little yet they leave me building these cathedrals of utterance about you.
There lay no cracks or puddles of grease;
The glasswork is blazing and brilliant with how you attract my attention.
I would build for you a place that displays the warmth I feel that I forbear to mention.
You’re enchanting,
Something to look forward to,
And someone my heart won’t let me forget.
This impression has lasted since the day we met.
After something substantial ends it almost feels like this is something to begin
LC Apr 9
when we fall deep into the never-ending abyss
where biting, caustic words nip at our shoulders,
we forget how to ward them off, but we can.
we can with these ingredients:
- aloe vera infused with compassion
to nurse the acidic sting of those words,
- honey that sticks to toxic atoms,
protecting us from further damage,
- a flame to remind us of our humanity
so we can join with **** sapiens across time,
- and coffee to give us presence of mind
to stay in this very moment.
We can take what we need,
whenever we need it.
Escapril Day 8! Prompt: ________________ as medicine.
I was inspired by self-compassion research (especially Kristen Neff's research). I hope you enjoy this poem!
LC Apr 5
endearing words and suggestive eyes brightened the room / accenting conversations that flowed smoother than honey / souls spun / quickly approaching and nearly colliding / unravelling like two ribbons / one maroon / one ebony / until one day / ebony suddenly curled back into itself / maroon was suspended in air for years / as if steeped in time / but dense air weighed maroon down / so maroon descended / letting go / when ebony came back in its unraveled glory / maroon curled back to itself.
Escapril Day 4! The prompt was "strange behavior." I was definitely stumped, but then I thought of a moment in which someone pulled away from me, and it was strange when it happened. And this poem was born.
I S A A C Apr 4
you attract more flies with honey
like moths, to a flame, you bug me
ready for hot humid summer days
ready to have my picnics by the lake
my family I have crafted, my kin in essence
my family I have drafted, my purest expression
truest of true, brightest of blues,
chatter filled dinners, loved filled rooms
I prayed for times like this, the flowers in bloom
Elena Mar 22
Shrouded in deep purple fear and billowing clouds of crimson shame,
I sat on the floor, a trembling moth in still air.
I swallowed. The taste of bile remained.
My warmth flowed out of my body into the icy bathroom tiles, escaping rapidly through cracks in my split-open soul.
She sat beside me, quiet, waiting.
After an eternity, I nodded to her with a shaky breath.
She helped me gently off the floor and guided me to her bed, tucking herself behind me to become my tight cocoon.
With my head rested against her chest, I heard her blood pounding through her, but her breaths were slow, controlled.
The fibers of my muscles remained tense, straining to compensate for my spirit - raw, exposed, vulnerable.
Her small, soft fingers ran through my tangled hair,
drips of golden honey appearing as she began to hum.
Her radiant honey oozed from the smooth, full notes of her voice and dripped between sharp fragments of my shattered porcelain.
The clock tutted at us from the wall, approaching the third hour of morning, but she held my shards together tenderly and unhurried.
The fight drained from me as she sang her sweet melody.
A puddle of purple and crimson beneath me. Pieces, tenderly held.
Her pure, glimmering honey meandered through my etched cracks and between my too-prominent ribs to replace my purple and crimson.
She sang the life back to me, held me together with her sturdy grace.
She waited as the liquid gold began to solidify and I began to feel closer to whole once more.
She - who loves me laughing, who loves me dancing - loves me messy, too.
Alicia Moore Mar 21
the space between us melts away,
honey forming in the warmth of passion.
we are golden and sticky in love;
I am made weak by the sweetness of it.
Broadsky Feb 24
running his fingers through my hair like a strong wind through tall grass in June
the coolness of his lips on mine like a summer swim in July
feelings for him coursing through my veins like a meteor shower sweeping across the night sky in August
I love him.
sowing seeds, growing flowers for the bees, I want to climb the tree of he- to taste the gifts he has for me.
he's my summer honey.
Dacotah Ashes Feb 19
swallowing honey won't make the glass shards go down easier
honey's still got a sting that sings
when it meets open sores
can't heal when honey drips from my lips
sugar can't make sweet what needs to be blunt
Tears like honey
T­ears like honey

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