Domestic Love by Bo-Edward Lawrence

Domestic Love

How does it feel to be loved?

How does it feel to be loved by someone that loves without pain so silently engraved with it?

How does it feel to embrace a man and have his hands all over me and leave red love marks that don't show purple or blue. 

I once loved she mutters.

I once felt wanted

I want to be the girl you like, no! 

Not like Beyoncé !

I want to be the girl you love to the point you change your ways ! 

You surprise me like pop rocks I can't take the pain! You pop at your mouth until you pop mine until blood flows out.

We are in a hurtful marriage that has no white gowns and tuxitos 

Just me and you at the alter with boxing gloves but there is never a ring 💎

That night you stumbled in drunk 

I can smell the whiskey it never missed me I feel the pain before you even raise your fist to hit me!

You kill me emotionally! 

My eyes that swell like oversized acorns can heal!

My bruised legs that hurt when i walk can heal! 

My arms from holding you up all night will heal

But my heart and mind can never heal nor forget! 

I am broken

How do you heal bruises you cannot see? 

I use to use make up to be beautiful ! 

Now with these purple smudges I use make up to feel normal.

I try to see the good in him but the eye liner won't line up to the reality. 

I pat my face over and over and over to try to get grounded or some type of foundation 

I'm uneven to the point where I can't Contour these feelings 

I feel lonely

Everyday of the week that I breath

How do I move on

I left him but I feel like the puzzle pieces of my life are broken 

How do I move on

I see hatred gleaming in his golden eyes I seen them when I stare at the sunset no matter how much years ago it may be

How do I move on

When I take pictures 

I try to smile but I can't seem to feel happy and beautiful how do I move on

How do I move on 

I said how do I move on

In the desert of the heart tears do not touch the ground. 

in the winter of my heart my tears freeze against your fist

let me move on

-Domestic Violence is real, and affects many couples all around the world. STOP this cycle and don’t be afraid to speak out for the sake of yourself and your family.

-Bo-Edward Lawrence

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Dial Tone By Bo-Edward Lawrence

Dial tone 

All I can hear when I call your phone. 

The echoes sound like distant moans.

The ring sounds like wounded angels trying to sing.

Pitch black shadows lean as the light of my screen breathes on my skin 

My fingers ache from pressing call with no answer at all 

Voices I hear in the distance linger in my mind like schizophrenic thoughts 

Your voicemail I memorized after hearing it a thousand times . . 

Goosebumps fills my valley like skin.

I tremble although in the sheets. 

I feel cold although alone ❄️

Swallowing ice I can see my breath take shape of frozen ghosts. 

I am cold yet alone accompanied by demons singing your dial tone. 

Yo. . 

Your. . 

Dial tone sounds like a broken song. 

A faulty note. 

A flawed symphony . 

I await to hear your voice on the other end of the lingering notes. 

But all i am ever left with. 

Is a never ending

Never changing

Dial tone. . 

-Bo-Edward Lawrence

Best Friend By Bo-Edward Lawrence

America The Free By Bo-Edward Lawrence

America the free, 📝 

Would have a nice ring to it if prejudice wasn't underneath 

I mean. 

Come on, its black history month and we are more inclined  

To worry about if a dress was gold or blue I think we are still color blind. 

Just enough to not realize  

That yes white against black violence is bad but black on black is the worst crime.  

But you know as a negro I can't be a hero  

Is what I once thought. 

My thoughts make me tired. 

The bud make me tired. 

Never an alcoholic the Budweiser.  

There's prejudice all around us even beyond race.  

At school I use to know a friend that was gay, 

Got bullied every day  

Spit in his face  

And was called a disgrace,  

But sometimes I wondered when God himself was gonna come down and wipe the tears off his face, Because at the end of the day  

To those ignorant souls, a bullet won't make him think straight. 

Accept people for who they are. 

Because America is the land is the free. 

Prejudice is just hate, 

And hate is to big of weight for my  

soul cannot take  

this miss domineer.  

If your words hold weight make sure your pronouns and nouns don't shake,  

Because I hate, Fake  

Apologies sound late, 

To a suicidal child in debate  

His fate is a razor blade to a beat away  

My heart shakes for you.  

I'll pray for you. 

America I hope you stay free. 

To sign this letter, 

I'll finish with a shot at the ignorant souls that are trapped in mental cages I feel sorry for you. 

Negativity breaks you down body part by body part. 

Because you have  

Lips that conceive lies 

With a breath that reeks of regret 

Makes me realize why your teeth shows gaps of faith and crooked promises and hopes 

Your a mouthful pessimism  

That makes me choke ! 

My chest and ribs become compressed because my stomach can't understand or process  

that you ain't shit but a thigh away from being alone  

A leg away from depression  

And a toe away from death. 

Don't feel like money is EVERYTHING created by Bo-Edward Lawrence

Young and Educated Created by Bo-Edward Lawrence

Don't let someone limit you to your age

Just want to get away by Bo-Edward Lawerence

Funny - How Animals Eat!

Stay Strong

It doesn't matter how talented you are! If you stand for something you must die standing in the glass house you chose to live in. People love to throw stones because its easy, but once you throw them back, you lose everything.

Brave New Voices 2010 - "Favorite Color"

A powerful poem you must check out. Tell me what you think and get inspired!!

Beauty in Calm

Share this  (Save or Screenshot) to help someone who needs to see this. Sometimes in our chaotic life we need to remember how to stay calm.

I Want that Unconditional Love

The Fragrance of a Lifetime By Bo-Edward Lawrence

If I should wake before I die, 

I pray that my dreams were beautiful.

That my sheets smelled like lavender 

so when I breath I grasp the aroma.

Up is like down when your mind tries to spiral into a coffin, sometimes I get speechless and start coughing.

She held her life in her own hands as if it were beach sand, but just like beach sand it slipped between her finger tips... 

It slipped between MY fingertips.

Life is a breath of fresh air.

An aroma I can never seem to grasp.

A Frozen Angel by Bo-Edward Lawrence

A Frozen Angel 

        They had missed it. Nobody blamed them, but they shouldn't have missed it. I just don’t understand why the world has abandoned me. I sit in my room staring for hours at this clock that seems to tick a little slower than usual. My eyes feel enlarged but filled with sand as if I couldn’t bare the pain to miss a second. Every now and then my legs begin to shake and goose bumps cover my skin like a blanket that won’t let go. As I write this letter with my pencil at hand I continue to write and erase, make and destroy, create and delete, I just can’t seem to narrow my mind enough to make a point that will stick to this white paper. I am alone and confused with many thoughts that are rushing through my head like a freight train.

I stay curled up in a fettle position in this dark corner in my room because it’s the only place in this world I feel safe. My bed seems to move centimeters away with each passing day, soon it will become a foreign object to me. My parents have always noticed my slow spiraling depression but they agreed with the rest of them when I needed them most. Every time I see their judging faces I reminisce on the time I went crazy screaming 

“Hell with all of you, one day you will wish you truly loved me. I hate every last one of you, and you will burn with the rest of them.”

Those were good times in my ongoing rebellion. I feel like a slave to prejudice beliefs. I can only remember yesterday when I got up slowly and dragged my lifeless limbs attached to this body of mine into the bathroom. The mirror was slightly cracked at the top from the anger I have faced for several weeks. I faintly remember leaning over the sink grasping the sides and screaming at my reflection. I can’t seem to remember completely because the Hennessey lifted me into a domain where I had no enemies and everything was dead to me. No matter how much I brush my hair back, wash my face, and rub my eyes this perfect image of a world is still not clear to me.

I turn around and slowly glance at the wall outside my bathroom in search for that slow ticking clock. I see those hands getting close to that point in time; I don’t want to miss this. I stumble outside the bathroom almost as if I had two right feet because my left has left with the rest of my dignity. I press my back against the wall and slowly ease my way down because it is time. I reach in my pocket where I put this note that I thought I shall leave behind.

 As I slowly open the folded letter I can feel the hate that I scratched into these pages manifesting into something legible. It is now 10PM, which means it’s time. I take my jacket off and neatly fold it to the left of me. I roll up my Hollister long sleeves so that my pale flesh is exposed. I can barely see as my vision blurs in and out but I know this must be done. I take out my father’s box cutter and held it tightly in my right hand. Somehow all of my thoughts and memories began to rush through my head once more. These are images I haven’t thought of in years, but for some reason they chose now to rise into my current thoughts. I can’t waste anymore time so I need to start now. I began to cut deeply into my wrist slowly separating the skin cells that held my pale flesh together. Not even on a molecular level can anything stop the message that must be sent. I feel the blood from my wrist begin to rush out filling my hands in a warm euphoria of love. I slowly hear my mother walking up the stairs calling my name loud and obnoxiously. 

“Emily you need to get out of your room you’ve been in there all day” My mother says. 

“You should’ve loved me mom! I didn’t choose to be this way! I didn’t choose to love the same sex because this is who I am!” I yelled.

 My mother then snaps back. “You are a beautiful female who chose to do those blasphemous things. You are throwing your life away! How do you think everyone is going to look at you now that you are some lesbian freak? People aren’t going to hire you or love you I regret you myself!” 

“And that is the reason why I hate you mom”

My mother began to hit the door even harder. “Open this door Emily or ill break it down your father will be here soon we are taking you to counseling and to church so you can remember the bright, young, straight lady that I raised”

I calmly responded in this dying voice of mine. “You and dad are the reason this world has so much pain. You are the sole reason for the senseless killings and racism that has plagued our earth for years. Because you cannot accept or understand other people, you try to diagnose them and exile them to be something that belongs in a negative category. Yes, I am lesbian but I am proud to be lesbian. Because as my blood slowly leaves my body I know that I will be dying as Gods beautiful creation.”

I can hear my mom after, so confused and desperately trying to get into the door more than before. She notices the blood creeping from under my door I can just hear her panicking. These are sounds of beauty for me, because of all that I’ve been through. I was just a 19 year old girl with nothing but success and love for painting on my mind. I know sometimes I might spill paint everywhere or maybe I might be a little clumsy and weird and I listen to opera and watch vintage Dracula movies but I’m sure someone would’ve loved me. My vision begins to dim and at this point I can barely comprehend my mother’s words hidden in her screams of distress. As my body begins to numb and I can no longer feel my finger tips that I use to paint those beautiful pictures with, I knew that it was over. They have all missed it, but I don’t blame them; because they are an offspring of cruel stereotypes. But they shouldn’t have missed it. Now I am laying here with my heart a couple beats away from still. The last thing I seen was my award winning painting of an Angel that I hung gracefully from my wall. But I cannot speak nor move, I am a frozen angel, a corpse of our world’s sins.