Bumblxbitch

YOU

Sweetheart, you own me, body and soul.

Promise that you'll fight to hold on. Promise that your hand won't ever slip out of my grasp.

Promise that you'll never let go. Not if you can help it.

Believe it or not, I need you.

More than the air that I breathe. More than the blood in my veins. More than the water that quenches my thirst.

I've needed you everyday since we first met.

I don't know what I'd do if I'd lost you.

It'd destroy me. I would be a shadow of myself, a soulless shell. I'd be nothing without you.

You're important to me.

Please know that.

I couldn't possibly live without you. I can't even fathom it.

Don't you dare tell me that you are not worth my time.

Darling, you're worth every beat of my heart.

Why, my lovely, it only beats for you.

Only you.

BEE KINGSLEY

LIFE

Life is nothing but a mere illusion. A hallucination in which that you breathe. A mirage that blinds you from the crude reality that threatens to smother you whole.

It has the power to take several bites out of your already-bitter soul and spit them right back out, leaving it beyond recognisable, as if it had left a nasty taste in its over-sensitive maw.

Life can be warm and bright, but is covered up by the several worthless lies that lure you into the swirling depths down the darkest crossroads of your sanity, the most ruthless torturer.

It has the power to bleed you dry, to force out the warm red liquid fire that resides within your arteries and veins, fresh as it blossoms scarlet against your droplet-splattered skin.

However, in great contrast, despite that all, deep down, it has the kindest heart.

BEE KINGSLEY

LIPS

I could kiss your lips all day, if you let me.

I don't know how you do it. How is it that your lips are the last things that I dream of before I drift off to sleep?

I want no place in heaven if you were my greatest sin. Because the way your lips are flawlessly pressed against my neck, oh my goodness, even just thinking about it, it's a type of paradise I'll never be able to forget. Amazingly, you chose to kiss, over my pulse, over my flushed skin, rather than tearing my throat out with your pristine white teeth and leaving me for dead.

Numerous could claim your kiss is one of the devil, because how is it you have the lips of a sinner but the heart of an angelic saint?

My jaw just so happens to be the perfect shape for your hands when you cup it when you kiss me. I love the taste of your flavoured lip balm and the way your lips effortlessly fit over mine. Your nose occasionally bumps against the skeleton of my glasses and you chuckle when you knock them askew. Your tongue has taken me to places in my mind I have not yet had an opportunity to explore.

Your lips are all I can ponder. They are driving me insane. What spell have you put me under? My love, I demand to know.

BEE KINGSLEY

imagine wearing these boots. i so badly want a pair.

Footwear by Elena Velez x MORPH.

The boots must be bolted around the feet using custom bolts.

📸: Tania Diego / Juan Camilo.

this is so cute, i swear!

"Dunk"

and then she complains i’m too much like her, while refusing to wash the dishes because it would ‘ruin her nails’. like, dude, wear a pair of rubber gloves.

my mom didn’t raise a quitter. she raised a perfectionist who’s so afraid of failing they don’t start anything to begin with

GIRL

When I was sixteen, studying for an exam in the school library, I met a girl.

Not any old girl.

It was obvious that she wanted to be a man but it was obvious that she was not quite ready to admit it and she clung to her female pronouns the same way a fictional knight clung to his pig-iron shield against the fiery breath of a dragon.

This was a girl who had seen life in ways, with certain hardships, I could never imagine.

A girl with brown mousy hair that was hastily chopped to her chin and above her pastily white bare shoulders as if she had cut it with a pair of garden shears, dark eyes reminded me of the mud that dripped off the bumper of the right side of my mum's car from when she drove through the murky countryside visit to my grandma's house, wrinkled lips that were pulled so far back by her tight skin that I could see where her cheekbones arched and how much her sallow cheeks had been sucked in as if there was a vacuum residing under her skin.

I had never met anyone quite like her before.

There was a dwindling fire in her brown eyes, lined by sore red scratches where it was obvious she had itched away the hay fever that made her heavily pierced nose sweat and run with snot.

I was tired that day. I knew that I wouldn't be able to sit through the exam without my head drooping towards the table like a weeping willow and my eyes dying to slip shut.

She could tell that I was struggling, so she grabbed me by the shoulders and shook me awake.

Mind, I'm perfectly sure she was sober.

I was worried that I was going to fail the exam and that my mother would punish me if I didn't do well. This girl wasn't buying an ounce of my unnecessary panic.

She looked deep into my soul and whispered, slurring her words like a drunk man, "There's no room in life for other people's bullshit."

Such crude words of wisdom from such a wise young person.

After all, it was those very same crude words that changed my life and gave me the courage to take the reins of my own life.

Girl, if you’re out there, and you recognise yourself within my words, thanks for being a tough bitch and giving me the harsh truth.

BEE KINGSLEY

this is so beautiful! there are tears in my eyes!

arabic poetry is so beautifully yet painfully romantic, i mean “they asked “do you love her to death?” i said “speak of her over my grave and watch how she brings me back to life" and “because my love for you is higher than words, i've decided to fall silent" and "it is not enough to say love in Arabic, you must say 'be the thing that buries me'" could have got jane austen crying and shaking

it really is crazy how quickly people were willing to just let chatgpt do everything for them. i have never even tried it. brother i don't even know if it's just a website you go to or what. i do not know where chatgpt actually lives, because i can decide my own grocery list.

i want to sleep but i got no energy, ya know? so bloody exhausted up to the point that i can’t close my eyes without crying.

how bloody fitting on a sunday afternoon.

don’t you all just love life sometimes?