Pierre Debusschere/CR Fashion Book

Beyonce Wrote An Inspiring Poem About Blue Ivy, And Yes, You’re Going To Feel Feelings

'I am a vessel,' she muses in 'Bey the Light.'

Beyoncé looks flawless in her new spread for CR Fashion Book — and in other news, water’s wet. She’s Beyoncé. She wakes up like that. What is unexpected about her feature in former Vogue Paris editor in chief Carine Roitfeld’s publication, however, is that the “Drunk In Love” singer contributed a poem in lieu of a traditional interview. That’s right. Beyoncé. Wrote. A. Poem. Written by Beyoncé. This. Is. Not. A. Drill.

Related: Check Out Beyoncé’s Entire CR Fashion Spread

Titled “Bey the Light,” the poem features the VMA performer’s words “remixed” by writer Forrest Gander. Displaying the same frenetic, connection-making thought process shown in HBO’s “Life Is But a Dream,” the poem touches on everything from Blue Ivy to what Bey has learned from her “Sasha” persona, both onstage and in the bedroom. (As the French say, LE GASP.)

Perhaps most intriguing are Beyoncé’s thoughts on her “healing” role as a singer, or as she describes it: “a vessel for … breakups and lies and double-cross.”

Read a full transcription of “Bey The Light,” Beyoncé’s poem for CR Fashion Book, below.

beyonce Pierre Debusschere/CR Fashion Book

beyonce Pierre Debusschere/CR Fashion Book

“Bey the Light”
Words Beyoncé
Remixed by Forrest Gander

It’s my daughter, she’s my biggest muse.
There’s someone, we all find out soon,
more important than ourselves to lose.

I feel a deep bond with young children –
all those photos in my dressing room –
especially those who’ve been stricken,

Children I’ve met across the years –
they uplift me like pieces of moon,
and guide me, whispering in my ear

I’m turned to spirits, the emotions of others.
And I feel her presence all the time
though I never met my grandmother.

I learned at a very young age,
when I need to tap some extra strength,
to put my persona, Sasha, on stage.

Though we’re different as blue and red,
I’m not afraid to draw from her
in performance, rifts, even in bed.

I saw a TV preacher when I was scared,
at four or five, about bad dreams,
who promised he’d say a prayer

If I put my hand to the TV.
That’s the first time I remember prayer,
an electric current humming through me.

You call me a singer, but I’m called to transform,
to suck up the grief, anxiety, and loss
of those who hear me into my song’s form.

I’m a vessel for all that isn’t right,
for break-ups and lies and double-cross.
I sing into that vessel a healing light.

To let go of pain that people can’t bear.
I don’t do that myself, I call in the light.
I summon God to take me there.

Utopias, they don’t much interest me.
I always mess things up a bit.
It’s chaos, in part, that helps us see.

But for my daughter I dream a day
when no one roots for others to fail,
when we all mean what we say.

Those feelings you have? Work ‘em out with Beyoncé’s VMA medley.

Bad at filling out bios seeks same.