All the Bey stories I couldn’t tell you on a first date so I just put it on the internet for everyone…

Visit my latest B-Vault Post: https://8degreesofbeyandme.wordpress.com/2017/01/04/b-vault808-my-bey-playlist-for-the-girl-about-to-cry-in-sprint-i-see-you

Most stories start with I’ve been drankin, I’ve been drankin but lets keep it classy and start with a poem I originally wrote while listening to my Bey playlist.

Blood in the Water: Stages 1 through 4 (Repeat)

*All bold letters are song lyrics and sung. Song credits at the end of poem.

Stage 1:

Mother Dearest Listen,

I just need you to listen.

I’m poor but I’m healthy

I’m a sister and a sister-friend

And I have my one friend in my pocket

While my brother drives by

middle fingers up.

Fuck you he says, and your little dog too.

Sorry let me start again. Begin again.

It all started so…amicably,

I have my toast with jelly while I know

Two worlds are sleeping.

And its not even 8.

Fuck. BOTH awake.

One fully woke, the other half asleep just ate.

They crash into me, one texts to see me

the other

doesn’t want to see me.

I start hatching my escape knowing its

Already too late. Messages deleted.

Both will have to wait.

I fall on my knees,

Lord, please,

 Just…show me the way,

Oh brother lets go down, lets go down, come on down,

Oh sister, lets go down,

Down. In that water.

Where we all might drown today mother.

Thick as thieves they are today mother.

What am I to do with a day like this mother?

Click. No answer.


Stage 2

She’s real in front of me as I watch her

She sits and eats her chosen meal

While scrolling through tinder dates, as set ups wait

I wonder, in the back of my mind: Do I have cause

To doubt,


Your throne I have placed you upon, you’re such magic.

Cars pass, they always look. Always. Hair tied up half fallen, just released from yoga.

I could kill you somedays for that beauty you possess.

No stress.

You squeak by with so much to give in those passing drive bys

I take it like food placed on my front porch for the grieving



Some days I wonder…

No no, the past beckons the truth, “No you were there, you were there for me.”

One moment doesn’t erase that you were there for me.

There to pack up my apartment, my heart you filled with gin as I said goodbye

To my future, to the love of my life, only you knew he was

just a boy, and he didn’t understand. How it feels to love a girl.

I swear, you girl, would be a better man.


You were there for me.

Wait, you’ve slipped again, fuck. Hello? Answer me!

Are you there? Are you there? Are you there for me?

Would you, die for me, die for me, you know I died for you

Do you get how I’ve died for you?


 Stage 3

And still nothing let up, my family never let up.

But I bend and break and bend and break and bend and break

I just pray I’m not your in between dates guru

Its not fair to hang my hat on you, on what I’ve lost.

I know reality is not fiction.

That would be like stepping into alice’s never never land

As I keep falling down the dirty tunnel, I wonder what reality was like before

Before it stained my dress murky brown.

Before. Before I tripped.

Before my Blood stopped running.

Before my blood gave me warning

That if I choose you, I am therefore not choosing them

And what kind of person would do such a thing?


What kind of person would make me choose such a thing?


Stage 4.

Painted pictures of black and white hang over my head constantly

And I’ve splattered colors onto all of them

Repainting Rosarch, making meanings,new meanings from centuries of dead white guys analysis.

Maybe blood is thicker than water, maybe that’s why its cut stings

Like lemon inside my scars.

But all I see is blood in the water. Its such a thick strain of red.

You see because now theres

blood in the water, mother dearest.

What rules do we play by now mother dearest?

You don’t know, mother?

I don’t want to ask questions anymore mother. I’m so tired of questions.

All I know is there’s blood in the water and its so thick I’ve stained my hands.

Murderer. I just shot a man down. Oh mama, mama, mama:

he could have been somebodys son.

Ok, Mother, one last question before I sleep:

Can anyone promise me a new day tomorrow mother?

Not today.


Alanis Morrisette, “Hand in My Pocket”//Alison Krauss, “Down to the River to Pray”//The Fugees, “Ready or Not”//Beyonce, “If I Were A Boy”// Lauryn Hill, “Ex-Factor”//Rihanna, “Man Down”//