The black fabric clings
to my dampened skin,
as oppressive heat
and sorrow twin,
while the sun beats down,
indifferent to my grief,
as each moment
offers little relief.
I wear this darkness
on the outside now,
as emptiness
thrives within somehow,
swallowing space
where joy once stayed,
isn't it strange
how colours speak
what words I cannot
bring myself to say.
Black is not just
the absence of light,
but the weight of loss,
within the endless
void of lonely nights.
There is no relief offered
in its sombre shade
as I long for breezes
that might persuade
this heaviness to lift,
if only for a solemn breath,
offered as a living reminder
of the absence found in death.
In this attire of mourning,
I mournfully roam
through this summer's bright
and cheerful home,
Yet, I am a contradiction walking,
a shadow I still cast,
across vibrant sunny scenes
that will not last.
My grief is worn plainly
upon my sleeve
in this beautiful sunshine
that refuses to comfort me.
©️Lizzie Bevis
