#beapoetry

[instaveis]

na escrita encontro liberdade.

sob o excesso de pensamentos que ali descarrego.

sou rica em poesia, e descrevo ali, tudo aquilo que reverbera em meu ser. 🪴

[bea-vs-world-blog]

If I could have anything, I would take back the image you painted of me, and I would hang it up in my room and look at it until it becomes me.

Hair ever bright red, lips always upturned in a smile. I will eat out with you but never gain weight. I will be everything you ever wanted.

And you’ll gasp “What a change!” as I blow off my friends and studies to be with you. I prioritise our love over everything else, and my stomach aches but I swallow its acid.

There is nothing important to me but you, and you make sure I know that.

I work out 5 or 6 times a week so I can get a flat stomach. We could even go to the gym together like you wanted. It’s strange that you brought up weight loss knowing I was anorexic but it’s fine it is so fine I’m doing just fine love isn’t love without a few problems so I’ll ignore this one just like my stomach aches.

Instead I’ll stare at that painting of that beautiful girl and wonder what I have to do finally live as her and exist in her skin.

I let you sit in my arms, I let you do to me what you want because you know that I’d do anything to make you smile. I was independent and you said you liked it, but you clearly didn’t as with every waking breath you render me dependent on you.

Now I’m in a daze, everywhere and nowhere, I can’t remember what I ate and my stomach won’t stop aching.

I ignore it along with everything else

- Bea

[instaveis]

ruínas

carregada de ruínas,

e pensamentos singulares.

acreditando sempre no êxtase do acaso.

e sobrevivendo mediante as circunstâncias do destino. 🪴

[instaveis]

sobre se perder e se reencontrar...

dentre indas e vindas, eu.

me encontro,

me acolho,

me supro.

sou somente a soma,

dos pesos e quedas,

que já ouvi, senti,

e que, tão somente;

s o b r e v i v i. 💜

[instaveis]

sob o sol,

sou semente,

que germina,

e carrega no peito,

a essência de ser o que se é. 🌿🤍

[bea-vs-world-blog]

This fresh loyalty/So unspoken and sweet/We keep it warm in these arms.

Bea

[bea-vs-world-blog]

I am a woman I want

I want so so badly

I want to rip the stars from the sky and bring them into my arms so that I may own them

So that they may give me the strength that possessions do

And in this strength I am weak

Stretched along the length of my carpet sobs breaking through my voice 

I am not invincible

I am no goddess

There are no flowers between my thighs I am not your Gaia

I am a woman I want

And I want and I want and when I get what I want I want more I will never be fulfilled 

I am hungry and ruthless

A great glitter-filled void

I swallow myself whole and spit me out again

My self-orchestrated rebirth is a nightly occurrence

In this way I emerge from dirty pillows pure

I am clean and ethereal

I am ugly and disgusting

Dripping in sweat and blood and mucus and vomit and in doing so I am undeniably feminine

I am a woman when I’m more gorgeous than ever I am a woman when I’m tangled in sweat-stained sheets I am a woman when I bleed through my jeans 

I am a woman I want

To scream into open air

Steal something meaningful

Be called my full name and be known as more than a giver of life

As there is mould to the fruit there is filthiness to the female and in these wretched palms I clasp both

- Bea

Originally performed as a spoken word piece.

[bea-vs-world-blog]

When a wasp stings you in the grass next to the beach when do you feel it sting?

When it hits you? Or when you see it?

Does it take a while for the pain to transfer from one nerve to another, from your second toe on your right foot where you stood on said wasp, to your brain where it registers said pain, to your mouth where you cry out to your dad about said wasp and said pain and as vinegar mixed with sunscreen the meaning of my tears changed

From wasps

To venom

To everything because it’s been a while since I had a good cry

One that makes my eyes stings and my back shudder and my chest close up

I’m not sure what makes a good cry good especially when it hurts

Is there such thing as a good pain?

Pain can be worth it, I’ve been told, I’ve had my lungs and stomach torn to shreds then been asked “Where does it hurt?”

It’s impossible to tell you where the pain is when I can’t see it, and what I can see is impossible to miss

I am a testament to every knot of pain in my chest

My knees and throat are covered in bruises from bending over the toilet never actually vomiting never quite being able to bring myself to shove my fingers down my throat

Did you know that in Year 8 I could count my own ribs?

But in Year 8 I was only nauseous when I was sick now it’s a constant: this monotonous droning of acid reflux and the dizziness that follows it

My self-hate manifests in sickness manifests in sick thoughts manifests in Monday morning and lowercase truths spinning around a party I wasn’t invited to

What is the most common reason for first trying alcohol?

Is it because it looks fun?

Because you’ve been told it’ll make you fun?

I carve fun into my thighs I vomit glitter into my lap I dance until my feet bleed I want to go home but I sit in this buzzing silence

Sometimes I know I need to step back and say it’s not okay, but I know I’ll never do that

How could I?

Everything around me is on fire and I will never change

I am burning and burning and I am walking qith one plodding step in front of the other

In this passionfruit monotony nothing is sweet but they can never make me bitter they can never make me stop walking

I have walked out of every doctor’s office alive I’m still alive Is this living?

Is this really it?

And in that case, am I doing it right?

I need a reminder that living is more than just a slow decay

That there is no stinger, just venom

How do you fix a pain that you cannot see?

The answer is simple:

You feel it

- Bea

Originally performed as a spoken word piece.