You open your mouth,
and some honeybees fly out.
I’m anxious when they buzz,
with their small, turbulent wings.
My insanity stems from the threat of
a single bee sting.
Slimy little larvae squirm down your jaw.
Who knew nectar could turn men to straw?
These graying insects are docile.
At least, that’s what I’ve heard.
Though I still have thoughts of their poison,
which surely is to burn.
I watch from our window as
they search for swelling flowers.
But our garden has been murdered,
and new rotting smells are sour.
These bugs swarm in confusion,
like honey mixed with blood.
Merely, falling limp near infertile spuds.
I hate these hallowed holes of these ugly hives.
I crave for syrup to keep our dusty catacombs alive.
Sting words, you neglect me for this passion,
I loathe your work, our life, and these blossom rations.
Emily Mae Campbell is an artist, writer, and aspiring mental health counselor based in St. Pete/Tampa Bay, Florida. She has been creating since she was a child to help her cope with the difficulties of life. She is currently pursuing her master’s degree in Rehabilitation and Mental Health Counseling and making art and poetry in her downtime. She loves cats, drinking tea, and helping make a difference in people’s lives!