Bees in my Tea

Excuses Explanations You know better than that Take a break I just did Just another drop Too many In the bucket Why don’t you stop Why don’t you listen This is important  You know where we’ll end up So what? I know you don’t want to go there This would be much easier if I had someone to talk to You have me Someone real Yes I am Sure, I guess You know it  I’m here aren’t I? I’m always here No matter where we are So I thought So I thought So you thought

          “Don’t bite off more than you can chew.” My mom always seemed to know my limits before I ever did. During scheduling for school, picking clubs and sports and classes, she always seemed to know.  “I’ll be fine Mom,” I would always say. “I know my limits. Besides, this will make my junior and senior years a breeze.” And so my sophomore year of high school started. I had loaded my schedule with every academic possible. Honors math, double science, english, history, and of course, the bane of my existence, french. My mother disapproved of the schedule, saying I should take an elective or a study hall, but I persisted. This year would be great. I would put in the effort, and come out the other end smarter, and from there it would be smooth sailing.  I started off well. I would come home exhausted, goof around for a few hours, then do homework till late at night. It was hard, but it worked, and I enjoyed it. My mother would come home from ...

Is that I love roses more than any other flower. I love the way they smell and look, The colors they come in, The way they bloom in the sunlight, The browning edges of the petals I have pressed. I love the meaning they carry, A complex emotion hidden in the layered petals. An emotion I long to obtain. So forgive me if I cry, It’s just that the roses mean so much to me, And I fear I will spend my whole life searching,  For a rose without thorns.

  I live on the edge of my mind and real world. I live in my head. I think over every detail. Analyze every possible outcome to every hypothetical situation. I use hesitance as a tool and a preventative. Looking for every cliff to fall off and every ladder to climb. No pitfall can’t be seen too soon. No possibility can’t be considered. It is a careful, delicate process. I live in the real world. There is no stopping. Time chases me towards every cliff and ladders pass me by as I sprint to stay ahead of it. Hesitance is a deadweight dragging at me. I trip over roots I could not have seen coming and dust kicked by my feet blind me. It is rushed and it is harsh; a painful process. I live with my thoughts. I keep secrets for tiered hearts, yet am too afraid to give my own. Wary of snakes in a perfectly maintained garden. Smart people don’t get bit twice. I keep myself contained. Things I think that others don’t know I can feel swirl like the colors in a bubble, almost impossible ...

I said that you were a bad friend When you  couldn’t hear I know you struggle with things people say You knew I did too I apologize It just felt right So light So freeing