Always searching
For a reason

Always looking
For a sign

Always seeking
For an answer

Always hunting
All my life

But…

What If
I’m the one who’s lost?

What if
I need to be found?

What if
I’m the one who’s dying?

What if
I’m the one who’s drowned?

Nah… that’s impossible

I cradle your worries,
your burdens I share,  
yet I carry my own,
a weight hard to bear.
Each word that I offer,
a balm for your pain,  
while I swallow my tears
like a soft summer rain.

With every embrace,
I hide what I feel,  
for the hardest of battles
I fight to conceal.
So if you could see me,
just for a while,  
you’d find in my sorrow
the strength in my smile.

©️Lizzie Bevis

Those words were painful to hear when you told it
I don't know if you know it
Because I certainly don't show it
And won't bring it up in conversation
Only via written representation
Can I say it without hesitation
So here goes it...

You know you lied...
(To yourself mainly)
A total fabrication
One that destroyed my vision of someone sacred
Altered love to blind hatred without persuasion
From which I'm now trying to retrain
Because I've missed out on important days
That should've been filled with celebration

Why not just give me an honest and open statement?
Like what you asked of me from an early age...
Was it to minimise the ache?
To save face from something failed?
To create distance from the ways in which you assumed everyone would frame it?

Anyway
That's me saying it as plainly as I can say it
About the way that you behaved then
And maybe
Just maybe
What I've said here
Will aid you in
Bringing closure to anything remaining
So that each and every day
You can pave more of your way
In coming to terms with all the hating
That you seem to linger in after waking

“wordlessly watching, heartlessly helping “

an early morning insertion,
says writes a love poem of
necessity, no formal request,
but as I am quiet bound to
her chest rhyming rising, falling,
she, caught between eyes closed,
but ears open, in pretense of deep
sleeping,
leaves me treading words,
“wordlessly watching, heartlessly helping “
borrowed for reuse, as waves
that have been here moments ago,
but only now just splashing me
to a place of inspiration, I look
up at the jambalaya of verses,
and declare myself satisfied,
both in love and wish this:

a completed poem that satisfies a
noisy urging~surging to tell her I
love her without disturbing her
peaceful state of drowsy and
permitting me too
(thinking pause)
to
taste a piece
of peace, so
well completed