I cant believe I made it to 1k followers! This is truly a blessing for me and I want to thank you guys for your love, support and feedback. You’ve helped me grow and maintain the confidence to keep growing. Thank you thank you thank yous!

Update: I finished my Story and Concept class with an A! It was so stressful but my hard work certainly paid off.

I got a new kitten! His name is Alfred and he always likes to help me edit on the computer

I’m moving to Atlanta this year! I’m terrified but excited to expand my horizons

A publishing company contacted me! This could be the beginning of my career guys! Wish me luck!


how comfortable I was

giving everything

I thought I was

before I knew

what or who I was


performing how a hidden

witness does

how solicitous

with barely a soul to offer

if it’d give me a chance

a place

a body to harbor

– B. Brown

(image courtesy of Pinterest)

Untimely Wisdom

like a flower who bloomed too soon,

I witnessed the harshes of winters, alone

pelted with acidic rain

no chance to glisten with dew,

only frost, fragrance diffused

I welt before decaying leaves,  

my flush foreign

amongst fraying faculties,

couldn’t fathom following through

as a phantom into the spring

– B. Brown

Pulled Apart

on display
sold as is
no returns
after alterations
so you were stuck with me
for your prerogatives,
that I was more
than what you wanted

I was everything
that you needed

– B. Brown

(Doll Chateau Stacia)

For Free

I was told

not to write 

Without pay

As if coin

Was the only currency 

I have to deal with

As if my power is limited

As if I scour for my lines

And rhymes each time

I sit to write to read

The bones 

Clattering inside me

As if I don’t write 

For me

For those who bleed

Like me

Who hurt chronically

Who neurotically

Self medicate

With narcotics 

And loving memories

I don’t write for free

No one has to pay me

To pay my dues

I do freely

Write to free me

And others being

Frantically living

– B. Brown 
(Time clock freestyle haha five minutes before the work day begins. Rise and grind. Good morning.) 


drag me from the rails, along the deck
down the hallway, towards the back

through the door, down the stairs
into and through the cabin

surrounded by wood, no windows
spun around, five times, for good

surrounded by darkness,
no sense of direction

locked in oblivion
breathe in,

breathe out adrenaline
sounding from the depths again

pushing pardons
hearing the same old voice again,

you can come out
when you’re ready to listen

– B. Brown

(oil painting by Polish artist Justyna Kopania)


trapped with a salvaged map,

trucking through catacombs

lit white as bone

with flames

that maimed bloodlines

sacred rhymes

made claim

as the only holy domain

he walks over

floors worn scorned

walls caked, torn

and bubbled as the ceiling

crumbles rubble


pacing down rumbling tunnels


the thunder of stampeding

those roaming freely


the fools

with undoubtedly wicked

tools, with spools

of delusions, confusions

prayers impaired

of the ruthless

the others


by his ruling Spirit


-B. Brown


(image by Jillian Locke)



you didn’t figure
my short leash
into the picture

my shackle sores
I love to live to endure

rope lines
I’m embroidered
it is the texture
you’ve grown
so fond of

as delirious as
I am from suspension

my submission
to a grander

my raw knees
from crawling
every morning

a twisted tongue
from begging

a relentless scissor
by hazing
from pledging
to the desolate revelry

my soul tearing
bearing spree
that jerks me
by the collar
when I grow weak

and damn,
did you weaken me…

– B. Brown

(image courtesy of Pinterest)


what’s this dialect
that I’m hearin?
coatin every
careful word

I’m searin;
a flash front,
don’t be a hero!
(fireballs laughin)

butcha whims
as thick as ya skin
to win

a drunk like me, hi
slurrin all forms
(I predict storms)
and ya rain cloud,
rumblin with
warm showers

and I just planted those
(I point)
but I think
you knew dat
(I digress)

I tink you knew dat
(I straighten my dress)
dis don’t happen erryday…
the way you…
make me so easy,
(I know,
it’s hearsay)
but, yes,
I’ll cooperate
whatever you say
like this? this way? okay

but who sent
you anyways?

I don’t remember
callin for a cab,
an escort,
fuckin right,
I’m my own money’s
and I’ll say it again-
belligerent? no-

and I’ll say it again,
who the hell sent you

just as I was leavin’
who told you to
hold the door?

thank you,
(I’m just teasin’,
I’m just teasin…)

I just don’t
see your reasonin

for stoppin an helpin
a bitter bat like me,
why you (hiccup)
you find me lovely,
don’t you

oh how,
you’ve calmed me…
sigh, so thoroughly
so quickly
(blanketed the wics)
sedated me

you don’t
want to hurt me,
do you?

but I can
trust ya?

I came here
how did you know
I was here?

how could you?


you’ve been looking
for me

you almost gave up


you’re just
as tipsy too…

yeah, but you can
trust me too

if I can
make it home
then you will

– B. Brown

(alcohol art by Tina Stensland)