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Beth Bayliss Jun 18
sometimes                                   will never
it feels like                                      be even
i am hiding                                         again
so so much                               s
underneath                          e
the surface                      l
and keeping               a
so so much            c       oh
inside that          s          god
t       h       e                help me
Beth Bayliss Jun 14
do not leave me with what could have been
with all of your
almost-maybe-somedays.

do not tell me that you’re sorry
and that you love me
and that you wish it didn’t have to be like this.

do not make me live in a world without you
do not make me have to drink coffee on my own.

put those pills down and pick up the phone.
for everyone who needs to hear this, but most especially for e.n. and j.v.
Beth Bayliss Jun 5
by 14, the boy had realised that
home is not a sanctuary
that nothing comes for free
and that some fathers don't know how to love

by 16, he had decided that
even if answers couldn't be found
at the bottom of a bottle
he was **** well going to look there anyway

at 18, he was free;
his life was his own.
now he just had to work out what that meant.

and at 21 he realised that
his life was a little girl
with freckles on her face and stars in her eyes
who picked him flowers to make him smile
and made the chaos of his life a little busier.

she saved that prince
from the dragons
from the fire
and perhaps
from himself.
for b.c. - it will get better with time.
Beth Bayliss Jun 5
at a glance I can count four shades;

I
the evening sunlight catching
the amber threads in her hair,
II
the polished maple of her violin
as her bow dances across the strings,
III
the blush on her cheeks while she tries
not to do her concentration face,
IV
the well-worn sienna wool
of the jumper that hangs off her shoulders

and my world burns with her
baby you're a sun on the verge of imploding
Beth Bayliss Jun 3
break me into the tiniest pieces;
i am born from you,
born for you
and your sick sense of self-appreciation.

who are you to lock the doors,
to shut me out? to cut me off?
to build walls where we had empty space,
where once we could communicate?

and yet i am loath to spill my thoughts
as i drink from this bitter cup;
after all, you and i are
masters in the field of repression -
it's an art form, don't you know?

oh, you can break my broken heart
until there's nothing left
but the dust will remember what you did.
it's getting harder and harder to call you father.
Beth Bayliss Apr 27
crowns you with kisses
and kisses your tears,
names all your freckles
and dispels your fears,
who would walk half an hour
alone in the dark
just to hold you together
as you're falling apart
i will love you for an eternity
Beth Bayliss Apr 6
she stands
on the edge of the forest,
looking out over the cliffs
at the lights littering the skyline
stretching further beyond than she'll ever know
out, out, out into the darkness;
tiny people in tiny houses,
with such tiny lives so full of love.
she is exposed, but so very alone
that it doesn't really matter right now.

amber fur rustles gently in the evening wind,
battle scars scattered across her skin
from every wild animal that ever dared challenge her;
they dare no more.
behind her, things are moving deep within the forest
but she is happy to leave them be -
she knows they will grant her the same courtesy.

there's a cliff somewhere,
on the edge of a forest,
on the edge of the world;
heart torn and beating,
she stands,
ever watchful and guarding.
nightmares in her sleep
and monsters when she wakes,
and still
she stands.
for j.v.
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