Im the daughter of a well-to-do businessman
He remarried, of my stepmother, I was not a fan
My sister & I were popular, engaged in charitable work
I taught Sunday school to children, which was a perk
I had a religious upbringing with the local church
My father felt his good name I would one day besmirch
For I went on outings unaccompanied by a male escort
I am stubborn & independent was my retort
Thursday morning my older sister & father were gone
Father came home, while I was out on the lawn
When I came inside I saw father on the lounge dead
Later the maid found his wife on the floor by their bed
Both were struck in the head with a sharp axe
She got eighteen, while father received eleven whacks
I was arrested charged with their ****** but no trial
For the men believed a woman couldn’t fit the profile
I was found not guilty and inherited the house & fund
But by society my sister, Emma & I were still shunned
Many believe & accused me of Abby and fathers death
As I walk by they mumble & snicker under their breath
Some theories were my uncle Morse or the maid
That she was my lover, that Abby and Father were dismayed
Abby apparently caught us both, in the barn at the back
And forced me to become a horrible, murdering maniac
Could I, Lizzie Borden, a woman, be so depraved?
Well only I will know & the secret I will take to my grave.

I smell the living and turn savage
I catch them then ravage
I think my flesh is becoming rotten
I can’t think and so much I have forgotten
I don’t understand why I am so hated
I do not rest even when sated
I am a hideous sight
I walk around day and night
I go around eating brains
I do not get sick when it rains
I actually don’t get sick at all
I have parts of my limbs that tend to rot off & fall
I was bitten and that’s how I was created
I can still be animated even when decapitated
I can be killed by a shot in the head...
I am a zombie, also known as the living dead.

Here between keystrokes,
I exist as thoughts
immersed,
with no face to trace,
no voice to echo,
just words scattered
in poetic verse.

I am me in data,
timestamps
and IP trails,
I am the ghost
inside the machine,
The blank space
and filler of forms.

How strange
it is to be someone
and no one at all,
to be a thousand
possible lives
behind a secretive wall.

This is where freedom
tastes like deletion,
like footprints
washed away by rain,
in this vast binary ocean,
I am both infinite
and contained.

Perhaps,
I am most real
when I am least known,
as a mysterious presence
in a world
of ones and zeros.

©️Lizzie Bevis

As the shine in the darkened sky
I can't help but to wonder why
Why are we so far apart
Just like the very start

I have spent much time in the clouds
In my head, sorting my belief from my doubts
Disappearing from the present tense
Neverending expanding clouds make sense

In a place of my own
A place I can call home
Sometimes I forget to live
All I end up doing is breathe

I disconnect trying to reach you
I try way too hard, that's the issue
From times I don't try at all
I'm in a paradox, an endless fall

A few things hardly meet
A solar eclipse
A will refusing to retreat
And the pillars in our eyes

I've grown fond
Of the shine from the sun
I've replaced it with a glow
That resonates from your skin so

In the heavens above
Do the stars shine as bright
As the light of your eyes
Or do they somber like the shade of my heart