This Is Me

If it's never. Make it happen. It if stops, Start the clock. If it follows, Hold it tight. If it runs, Draw the line. If it falls, Catch the heart, If it tumbles, Let it start. By Boneata Bell. 30/03/2014

It was this little form of magic, In a teaspoon. With pearls for eyes And velvet cries, I picture it. With beauty, like a mermaid's gaze, In a tablespoon, that's how we made, This little baby beauty mine. It was this little plan of wishes, In a teapot. With dreams for mind And missing just, those kisses of mine. With wonder, like an angel's wings, In a fairybowl, that's how we made, My baby beauty king or queen. It was this tiny form of dream, In a heartbeat, with hope for hands And lullaby sleep, at perfect scan. With power, like a sealed bond, In a miracle, that's how we made, With golden kicks and magic wands My little baby beauty strong. By Boneata Bell 12 weeks + 4 Mummy to be.

It's not you that I am afraid of. Or your words. Or violence. It's not your face that frightens me, Or your world, Or beliefs. It's not what you love that worries me, Or who, Or lack of. It's not you that frightens me at all. Just death, And his ability. In comparison to yours. Because why should I fear you, Or your words, Or violence. When death can take everything, Like my love, And my life. So why should you scare me? Ever today, Or tomorrow. When this could be my last sentence. Right now, Or never. Boneata Bell 2014

I'm running to you,                                  but you can't see me. I'm asking for you,                                 but you can't hear me. I'm stalking you,                                but you're hiding from me. And you're running to me,                               but I'll never reach you. By Boneata Bell 2014

To be the ticking bomb of time, Two lovers link in perfect rhyme. Crystals on the burning moon, In deadly pace and time, and tune. To be the artwork on the clock, With ribbon on the child's frock, Stained and fraying at the hem, The Reaper will appear again. To be the stalker, follow free, He will turn and run to me. Aphrodite, now shall see, A goddess judged by number three. With corners sharp and edges strong Lava, she did not belong. Owner to her devil sin, Devil makes her sin again. To be the marble strength of touch, Liquid burns as gasses clutch. Water makes retreat so soon, He has no time, to warn the moon. To be the God of growing seed, We abuse the flower and plant the weed. Sunshine she did not belong, To acoustic strength or bird's love song. Sweetheart, I do not find, Love in battle, or strength in time. Manipulate a word for me, Make it real, set her free. Boneata Bell