Bell's Musings

My poems and short stories, finished and in progress. Enjoy.

[bellforyourthoughts-blog]

The gravity of all her failures hit her all at once, slamming into her chest with gale-force winds. The pain burst forth from her eyes like geysers, suddenly ripping from her tear ducts. She expelled the air from her lungs completely with one rib-shattering gasp and the cavity left behind refused to fill again. She choked, swallowing the fist that closed around her throat. It settled in her stomach and turned to ice. She blinked. In the span of time it took her eyelids to touch and part she had released one sob and decided that was enough. She inhaled sharply, ignoring the knives and needles clustered behind her eyes that pricked her consciousness. There could be no time for heartbreak. 

[bellforyourthoughts-blog]

Rebloggable by request. If you get this message in your inbox, don't go to the website. It has something to do with a supplement and the site has a virus. This is spam!

[bellforyourthoughts-blog]

lol what do you think about that diet everyones talking about? i actually did it a few months ago and it works fast as shit. (no spaces) TUMBLR SUMMER DIET xDOTx COM

OH COOL. SPAM. YOU GUYS, DON'T GO TO THE WEBSITE. IT'S TRYING TO SELL YOU SOMETHING AND I'M PRETTY SURE IT TRIED TO LEAVE SOMETHING ON MY COMPUTER. THANK GOD FOR SECURITY. I TRY NOT TO POST ANYTHING BUT POETRY ON HERE, BUT THIS IS IMPORTANT. I DON'T WANT MY FOLLOWERS GETTING SPAM. 

[bellforyourthoughts-blog]

Poetry is what happens when you grow up

Poetry is what happens when you go grow up. When your cries no longer reach your parents' ears in the middle of the night when you wake to find yourself in an unfamiliar place. Or when the dark closes in and the gaping shadows prepare to swallow you, and you suddenly wake up gasping for breath and no one is there to pat your back and say it was all just a dream.

Poetry lives there. When you have to put the band-aid on yourself after an accident. And then take it off later. You grit your teeth and pull it off, along with a layer of your skin, and you hold in the groans even if there's no one to hear your weakness. When there's no one left to hold you, rock you to sleep, or tell you everything is going to be okay.There, you'll find poetry.

Poetry resides in the days that shine too brightly through your windows after a night painting the town. When you throw up until your empty stomach clenches against nothing and your nose burns with acid, but no one held your hair. When you sit by the phone waiting for a text and you can't even tell your mother you're in love because you'd have to explain to her how you fell for a woman instead of a man like she raised you.

Poetry flows from that place. When you drop your bags in the elevator and she drops hers to touch your face and give you the kiss you've been waiting for. Or when you, sweating and panting, look into the messy little face of the first thing you get to call completely your own. When you can say I did that!  Poetry is born there. 

[bellforyourthoughts-blog]

In High School Everyone is Afraid

to be noticed

to be liked

to like anyone

to be themselves

and to dare to like it

[bellforyourthoughts-blog]

A Gentle Reminder

It's my hardest days

That I'll try my best

To make you believe I'm happy

[bellforyourthoughts-blog]

I dreamed I tried to find you

In a city on my own

But I lost my way

And found the sea

And sat down to watch the sunrise

[bellforyourthoughts-blog]

Warm Up- Describe a person in a place

The woman adjusted her stockings, either unashamed or unaware of her proximity to the man in the cramped elevator they shared. Her elbow brushed his hip as she hiked up her skirt, revealing a lovely expanse of thigh. He gulped and lifted his eyes to the buttons beside the doors. Though this made the situation more polite, the highly reflective surface only served to enhance the view by providing access to the whole picture. 

Of course she would be blonde. All legs in her pencil skirt and all breasts in her shirt, which still managed to accentuate her curves despite being a modest teal and beige plaid turtleneck. Five floors to go. She applied her nude-colored lipstick using her reflection in the doors, still seemingly oblivious to the man's gaze. She fluffed her curls and checked the straps of her beige heels. Damn, she was a study in perfectly matched colors, wasn't she?

Only when the doors pinged open and she stepped onto the floor ahead of him did he remember hiring a well-qualified secretary from a temp agency over the phone- scheduled to start today. 

[bellforyourthoughts-blog]

There are people and things I would kill for

I wonder if you know you're on that list

It's unnumbered and unorganized

But look

There's your name

[bellforyourthoughts-blog]

Unhappiness

There's a woman who goes home to her adoring husband and darling son (who happens to possess the perfect combination of his mother's nose and father's eyes). They eat together in quiet contentment, smiling closed-lips smiles at each other over their square meal. The little boy reads his picture books before blessing his parents in his prayers each night.

She works in an office where she gets to answer important phone calls and send them to their correct correspondences. She wears her hair in a ball of black silk, tucked neatly into the curve of her neck. Her shoes match her belt match her nails match her heart.

Her female coworkers love her. That is, until she walks out of the room. Their voices whisper like the soft clicks of their nails on their keyboards.The woman knows, but she wouldn't let it bother her. She has enough friends. 

The men in her life, those she doesn't share a bed with, hate her. They sit, volunteer prisoners to her every story. They wait in tense silence for her to finish, so that they might be there first to offer a witty response. "I made her smile," they'd say to each other, if that was acceptable to say of a married woman.

There's a woman who lives a charmed life. People admire her straight, white teeth. They praise her smooth voice, like the good red wine they can't afford. They clamor over each other to stand in her spotlight. She knows. 

One day, she'll rebel. She'll toss her state-of-the-art computer out the window. She'll stomp on her wedding ring hard enough to splinter the silver band. She'll run until the stilettos of her heels snap. She'll raise a fist to the sky and scream until her throat burns. 

There's a woman who waits. For what, she is unsure. 

[bellforyourthoughts-blog]

Flirting with Obsession

They swear they would catch her tears If ever they saw them fall Kiss away the gleaming drops She'll never give them the chance She gathers her fragile frame To dance around all the men Her glance a coveted gift To be won at any cost The ease at which you'll love her Might astound you at the first But soon you'll fight just as hard To keep her within your sights

[bellforyourthoughts-blog]

Belly Dancer

If she stopped moving, the music would cease to exist. Hips Wrists Waist Shoulders The rest of her body is liquid smoke. Curves Lines Smooth Silk Her dance is water for parched eyes. 

[bellforyourthoughts-blog]

SCREAMING

Tonight, I scream. 

Because I am always gentle.

Because I am always calm.

Because no one hears me UNTIL I'M SCREAMING.

[bellforyourthoughts-blog]

Fight or Flight

The grip The shudder The scream caught in your throat Suddenly A hand An arm A pull to a safe embrace Suddenly

[bellforyourthoughts-blog]

Sober Babe

Barely a man He stared down his barrel Holding it the way he was taught Never been with a woman Still wore his cross A curse never crossed his lips He had no beard Nor gold on his ear No coin to rest his soul But he pulled the trigger And watched a man bleed All for adventure and danger "Sober Babe" is his name And you can find him there Drinking whiskey to drown all his shame

[bellforyourthoughts-blog]

Become

Take my name Speak my voice See my eyes Expand my lungs Beat my heart Share a soul with me We'll spread our wings Take a collective breath Leap into the air And fly

[bellforyourthoughts-blog]

This Little Girl

I am stronger than I have ever been given credit for. I couldn't hit you hard enough to bruise you, but I've been known to try. That's more than a lot of girls my size can say. I can use my words to rip you to pieces. While I'm usually quiet, this does not mean I am meek. It means I'm thinking of what to say next time you insult me or the people I love. I have the element of surprise on my side. You'll sit there, walking all over me, thinking you'll get away with it. The next thing you know, I'm coming at you with flaming hair and ice in my eyes. If you don't hear it from my mouth, you can read it here. Sometimes this is all it takes. Those who read what I write might not know your name, but they know what you've done and the deserved daggers I've used to stab you. Maybe if they meet you, their subconscious minds will make the connection and they just won't like you for some reason. I've been put down so low and shoved into the smallest boxes. I've been called names, treated with disrespect, and neglected. That doesn't mean I'm beat. It means I have enough built up, stretched thin, potential energy coiled up to blast right through you. My height, weight, gender, class, and race don't affect my intellect, wit, and pride. So next time you think you can step on me, put me down, or threaten what I love, watch out. I forgive past transgressions easily. It's the ongoing issues shoved in my face and down my throat that I won't tolerate. Tell me I'm not good enough once, I'll shake it off. However, I refuse to be told twice. That means it wasn't a mistake the first time. It means you believe it and you want me to believe it. I don't and I won't. If you want to point out my so-called faults, I'll hold up that proverbial mirror and expose yours to the world. I don't have to take what you dish out. So I won't. This little girl has a wrath as intense as the sun. You don't want to be on the receiving end.