And I think—you know—when you believe in something, like really believe in something, there’s no way that belief will fail you because you’re manifesting it out of thin air. You’re breathing life into it—giving it oxygen and a heartbeat to live as freely as you desire. Your thoughts are your new pair of lungs; be … Continue reading the road map to your greatest potential—a messy poem.
Author: B.K Laurel
As it says in my tagline: I'm just a writer writing about love because that's what all the cool kids are falling into these days. However, the type of love I write about is based more on the likeliness of modern day heartbreak. I originally started this blog as an outlet for therapy. I believe writing soothes the mind and allows us to express our feelings, which is exactly what I do here -- but in the form of poetry and spoken word pieces. I began writing in 2016 and I like to think the content I put out is relatable and hard-hitting since there's nothing new under the sun. You'll come to find I struggle a lot but without struggles, there is no growth, and believe me, I am growing.
Slowly, I am working towards publishing my own works. Gallimaufry (one of the categories here on my blog) is one of them. I'm also in the process of writing, "war & peace", "where two hearts unify as one", & "i sold my heart to buy yours".
Until then, feel free to linger around and read a few of my pieces; if you like what you see, be sure to hit the follow button at the bottom of my page to keep up with my posts and like & comment as you wish!
Other than that, thank you for reading my About Me page!
I'll be seeing you,
B.K. Laurel
mama, i think you’ll like this one.
Mama, he’s warm—like a hot shower after a day in the snow. When he holds me, he’s a human toaster; electricity fueled by his touch with the knob turned to forever. I’m warm. I’m so warm.
the man next door.
Lost my keys in the garden trying to find the door to your heart. I should have known you’d lock me out. And as I sat there, waiting, deciding whether or not to try the doggy door, a nice man walked up to ask for some sugar. It was your neighbor, John. I told him … Continue reading the man next door.
to all the boyfriends who thought I deserved better.
you were right, thank you.
cast away.
We’re all swimming in a sea of regrets, drowning, trying to reach the shore.
withdraw.
Do you think I could still be a writer if I let the saddest parts of me go?
meet me in aisle 7.
On our first date, we washed our cars. I'm talkin' bell bottom jeans in the middle of summer, compensated with a sun hat; he cleaned my sun roof while I scrubbed his hatchback. When I wasn't looking, he stuck a note inside my glove box. On our second date, we went to the store. Split … Continue reading meet me in aisle 7.
bon voyage.
he was the anchor tied to my feet and love was the ocean I drowned in.
the five stages of love.
The first one never counts. Odds are you were in middle school, crushing on the popular boy who called you buff and you took it as a compliment because you didn’t understand what it meant. But then you lost the weight and found a boy who loved your body, not your soul. That one doesn’t … Continue reading the five stages of love.
