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

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

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.

My Suicide Note by Bo-Edward Lawrence

My Suicide Note

You know i never thought i would be alive long enough to write this poem.

Witnessing God in my dreams, talking to me

I didn't want to wake up. I was having a much better time asleep. 

As sad as that sounds.

It was almost like a reverse nightmare, 

usually when you wake up from a nightmare you're so relieved. 

I woke up into a nightmare.

I woke up to the sounds of my knuckles knocking on the devils gate. 

I am not his advocate..

God forgive me for my sins.

My angel wings have been burned off my aching skeleton 

The pain i feel is more traumatizing and genuine as if i was a war veteran

sleep is the cousin of death and suicide is its closest relative

This cold barrel to my dome, never made me afraid but for some reason i feel like I’m going home.

God, I’m coming home

They say every second, minute, and hour of the day you write your future, your story.

There were many times i wished i could tear out some of the pages, but instead i always feel like burning the entire book.

its all bad! 

The entire world is against me. 

Can someone. . 

Tell my mother that she is the kindest angel i have ever known

and my father, thank you for teaching me how to be a man.

Tell them I’m sorry that this life lesson doesn’t feel like a blessing but instead like a curse.

Tell the reporters that i was never into drugs or a criminal 

just make sure they don’t sell me to the world as a bad person.

I raise home to my head and put it next to my temple 

and i reflect . . . .

The easiest thing in life is to quit. The hardest thing in life is to live.

Just to know that all my pain, all my hurt can end with a pull of a trigger. . 

I want my death to be beautiful, i want my death to be meaningful. would it be considered beautiful if i scattered my brains on this windshield as my old thoughts create a Picasso.

I don’t want to be the man that nobody knows until he commits suicide, and then everyone had a class with him.

Sometimes home isn’t the answer, sometimes running away isn’t the right thing to do. 

I want to be known as the one who stared down the barrel of a gun and found enough beauty to look away. 

and live. . .

The Strongest Girl I Ever Met By Bo-Edward Lawrence

Dreaming Poem! VIDEO !!!!!!

http://youtu.be/BS7DWNcCK4Q

Someday, someone will walk into your life and make you realize why it never worked out with someone else. 

I Am by Bo-Edward Lawrence

I am different, 

from everybody else.
I see the things that your glistening eyes cannot imagine.
I with stand pain as to swords clashing and spears piercing my heart, and vacuums breaching my ribs to suck my life away, or my legs getting so weak were I can't seem to walk anymore
But you.
Your mind simply defines that as heartbreak.
Sometimes these visions that become trapped In My mind makes me flabbergasted.
Seeing a girl with a nice round personality.. makes me infatuated
See your heart telling you one thing
While your mind tells you another, making your decisions dumb and not so sharp but My heart and mind work together never apart I guess I'm just love smart
They say love can't be defined
I guess this is why I'm a poet to one day define love
Explaining the wonders of gods gift that feeble minds can not understand.
  Unfortunately I can't define myself
Defining me Is like defining why Adam and Eve fell victim to the apple, or why Romeo and Juliet loved so much to the point they would have died for each other, or why god made earthquakes and hail, or why each and every human suffers from unexplained  betrayal, slaves to our emotions
Trapped by our faith.
But I know
When this earth turns into dust and sand
When I can define love and life
I know I can define who I am
I know then I will become a man

Inspiring Poem By Bo-Edward

In every eye there is a soul,

In every child's heart there is a dream.

And within every vain there is passion that blazes through

like water crashing, through mountains.

Filling rivers, even oceans

Ever so potent, sending notions,

To those butterflies that blaze your stomach when you get a little nervous.

See I have my heart wide open.

Because unconsciously it chases after dreams,

Dreams that those soul seeing eyes could never lay upon.

Or those hearts that can't beat the same melodies my heart beats,

Because happiness has its own music that it plays just for me.

In school I always hated history class because I loved kids more,

Maybe it's because history always dwelling on the past

And with every kid I met it was like taking a new fresh breath air of the future

You see I always believed happiness and inspiration was the same thing

Because as I inspire you, you inspire her and him, and they inspire them

Which eventually, suddenly happens to relocate back to me

I mean I just call that the life cycle

And as all these people become bellied up with all this happiness

They start to glow with positivity burning holes in the night sky

And if I was an alien sitting on those red velvet stones on mars looking down at earth

My antenna would go crazy because I wouldn't know the difference between earth and the sun

I want everyone who is listening to me to promise me something

As you know I'm trying to spread my inspiration!

And cover the Earth with it

So much inspiration

Not enough to drown you but enough to lift you off your feet

And just swim lightly because you will be swimming in my dreams

And promise me

That when you shoot for the stars, you shoot with your eyes closed

Because they say dreams only come true when your asleep,

that can’t be true.

because when your eyes are closed that's when your soul is awake.

I Want Too By Bo-Edward Lawrence

Most Popular Love Poem By Bo-Edward Lawrence

Smiling..  something I always see you doing
Even when you are most uncomfortable
Something so beautiful and breathtaking
A smile so pure like your face was shaped with only the richest and most graced of gods clay
I want to be able to envision our future as masters of time and gods of romance because we are wise enough to speak revelations of humans emotions.

I want to be able to sit upon the tallest ice covered mountain sipping hot chocolate while eating some cotton candy with you
I want to be able stuff ice cream down my throat, nearly passing out from depression and lack of love.
Then feeling your hands engulf mine once again
Warming my deathly hollowed heart to pump once more
I want to be able to carry you across the universe and back, to show you what this world has clouded from you
I want to be able to leave my finger prints on your heart forever as if god open her chest, spread her ribs and let me in
But it's hard for you isn't it
To know It's bad manners to say 'I love you', with a mouth full of lies...
But yet you continue.... so complacent in that freakum dress the devil tricked you in receiving as a gift
But yet I love you.
Smiling as joyful as a newborn baby playing with her teenage mother
Speechless.. Is what you make millions of men who walk by you seeing you’re perfectly shaped lips with a body of queen
Saddened.. By the men who only want you for your brains and... Use you for your beauty... Arrogantly misleading your love into that gaseous black space of loneliness.

Love pumped out of your heart and packaged away like a chocolate factory. Sweet on the outside but a slave ship on the inside
There's only so much, . Make up can cover up
I want to be able to change your thoughts to passionate dream
Sweetheart Sex isn't the only pleasures to life Nothing is more beautiful than real true love.
And nothing is more gorgeous than someone being themselves. Because you’re the original.
And all those hypocrite friends of yours can only be copies. And they will always be copies because they have to always consult the blueprint
I just want you to. Know
your beautiful
you may not feel like you’re the brightest crayon in the box...but you'll always be my favorite color.
By Bo-Edward Lawrence

Spark By Bo-Edward Lawrence

A feeling, 

Feeling of fire, 

Of desire, a lust to achieve, 

Burn..

Burning passion Within my chest, 

Breathes,  New life

Starting as a single candle light, 

Wind blowing

Swoosh,  

A multitude of negative energy shadows the darkness, 

I begin, 

Feeding the flame with knowledge, 

I'm becoming the spark to set the world on fire.

Even the greatest of creations were once thought to be impossible ideas.

Release.! 

Release your spark, 

Watch as it rises, 

Turning the night’s sky into a concert filled with lighters flickering and dancing.

Two Beautiful Roses By Bo-Edward Lawrence

You my love, 

I will give you two small but beautiful red roses, each with a note. 

The first note says for the woman I love and the second, for the woman who bares the key to my heart'

-Bo-Edward Lawrence

 

Im Sorry By Bo-Edward Lawrence

Hey

I'm sorry

I Was just calling

Cause I didn't want to forget what your voice sounded  like

If,

If it sounded...

Sweet! ! !  like strawberries lathered in chocolate or in the middle like a bag of sour patches I just don't. Know

I don't remember

I don't remember If it was night or day

Or if I keep the bed bugs away

Or if I can slay that dragon

Or wake my sleeping beauty

Or kill that wolf who wants to blow your house down

Or even find you that right fit glass slipper

I just. feel.  consumed with fairy tales

Trying to find the right story which I found you in

Maybe this is my way of saying I miss you

Remember when We created our own little fairy tale

And yu fell in love when I told you how I felt

I still remember.. I said

I would rather have eyes that cannot see;

ears that cannot hear

Or lips that cannot speak,

than a heart that cannot love

But you are my heart and according to life baby I can't live without you

Sleep is the cousin of death

Maybe that's why I feel so weak and end up falling into a deep sleep when you walk out my door  with those uggs that are warm and  hug I think I'm in love

And the time on this voice mail just isn't long enough.

And every time I see you

It's like my heart gets bigger

And these bones they call rib cages are just not strong enough

It's not February but I'm so love struck

I'm sorry

I don't know what it is but I think cupid must have got arrows the size of rocket launchers or upgraded his heart shaped darts cause

Baby how can I be tripping when my heart keeps me above the stars

And my love has me on the comets these poor heartbroken souls wish upon

I just want to say I'm sorry

I'm sorry that the reality is

That love starts with a smile, and

Grows with a kiss but

Ends with a teardrop

Life is a succession of lessons which must be lived to be understood.

I'm calling because

I have learned not to worry about love, but to honor its coming with all my heart.

I guess that was me saying I'm sorry