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T'was not a spirit,
T'was not a ghost.
There is no specter,
Which haunts my soul.
In a joyous world,
I and I alone,
Am the inspiration,
For each sad poem.
I deal with my feelings and my thoughts by writing them down in stories. Once they're on paper it's no longer my problem to cope with, it's the paper's.
*** in the..
...pity it was only a dream
because I live in a small town
where nothing ever goes down
unless it's the miners
going down the pits.
Years gone by
Tears fell down
So many nights
I stayed awake worried
Didn’t know what to
Make of it
Not one word
Not one call
Not one visit
That’s in the past now
I don’t know how
To process this
Why?
I cried for years
Felt rejected
Felt not enough
Lost all confidence
It felt like a nightmare
Now 20 years
It’s come to words
Never understand
Why you left
I’ll never see you again
Miles apart
But you will stay in my heart
i miss the days
of being alone
in the house by myself
and i didn't have to hide
my feelings
and i could cry
in each corner of the house
and i would try
to occupy myself
with frantic cleaning,
horrible singing,
expressive dancing,
and absent writing
and the way i could
get myself high
just being all over the place
or sometimes
oversleeping at
one place
because i didn't want
to think
but now,
it feels like
i can't be me
when i need to be.

so please
just leave me alone
it wasn't the way you held me in your arms
it was the way you put your hands around my neck
and pushed me to the ground.

it wasn't how you complimented me
it was how you lied, saying things like 'you'll change.'
and say unnecessarily mean remarks.

it wasn't the way you looked at me
it was the way you sat and watched me wail, sob in pain
and my body shut down multiple times from all of it.

it wasn't the way you cared
it was the way you would never choose my life
over what you want.

it wasn't the way you took care of me while I was sick,
it was the way you did nothing, slammed the trunk of your car
on my head and played video games without an apology.

it wasn't the way you adored me
it was the way you look and comment on my body
more than you look at me and my soul.

it wasn't how all you want is for me to be happy
it was the way you pretended to change
and go back to the same cycle for the millionth time.

it wasn't the way you apologized to me
it was the way you say it with no meaning
or feeling of remorse.

it wasn't the way you paid attention to me in awe
it was the way you never listen or get excited to
hear my stories, but you like to forget what's important to me.

it wasn't the way you loved me
it was the way you enjoy watching me hate myself
more and more.
I was never his queen.
I was a beggar for love,
for respect,
for a partner.
I was never rich in love
Grey clouds drift like rousing thoughts,
between winter's long exhale
and spring's first breath,
as frost melts in patches,
revealing a grass blanket beneath.

Robins flash their defiant redbreasts
against the monochrome mornings,
singing and brightening each day
with their jovial song;
While bare trees stretch
their waking branches
out towards the pewter skies.

The short month lingers
like a lover's daydream,
as each day becomes a slow dance between
the chills retreat and the sun's advance,
as the daylight stretches its golden rays
a little further into the evening.

©️Lizzie Bevis
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