Secret Life Of Bees

my memories call to me, the sight of my mother plays in my head.

T-ray doesn't speak of her

When he does he just says that she left me

so i ran away with rosaleen

I sure did.Stole her right outta the hospital before they put her back in jail.

i found myself in a small town Tiburon, South Carolina
looking for clues that my mother had been there

living with the calendar sisters (may, june and august)

Pretending to be someone I'm not headed to place I'm certain I'm not going.

The honey makers, as they are called

honey, honey, honey is used for everything

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poem by Tatiana Enriquez
Added by Poetry Lover
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