BB Grey–musings

“She didn’t leave scars—she left blueprints for where to break me again.”

bb grey

---

She cut me
just to watch me bleed—
her hands steady, eyes dry,
as if pain were an old habit,
and my heart, a tool
for remembering how to feel.

She smiled
as I broke—
that slow, deliberate smile
of someone who knows
exactly where your soul
still flinches.

She slept
not for rest,
but to gather nightmares
in her arms like children,
each scream tucked beside her
like lullabies for the damned.

She woke
to silence—
not peace, but the kind
that comes after storms
when the bodies float
and the air forgets how to breathe.

She spoke
in riddles that rhymed
with regret,
rewriting the past
in ink made of promises
she never meant to keep.

She moved
like smoke through my ribs,
curling into every soft place
I’d left unguarded,
whispering love
only when I begged to be free.

She laughed
at the sight of my hope—
a crooked, rusted sound
that danced across my bones
and stole the breath
before I could name the ache.

She vanished
but not before hollowing me—
taking songs,
taking light,
leaving only echoes
that wore my voice like a mask.

She left
and still, I search—
through torn pages
and unfinished verses,
for the man I was
before she made art from ruin.

---