Exile
a supposition
of pretense
in isolation
granting vices
permission & unwelcoming
circumstances,
as choice
to do or die
Alone...
another SUICIDE...

Arrogance
to control
that which is not
YOURS
to govern
to protect
A LIFE
choice  ...
the immoral
PROPOSITION
to demand
who can live,
propagate
marry
or relationship
pro-choice
maybe pro death
YES !!!

Gay, Lesbian
Bi-******
Trans & queer
being one-in-the
Sameness by default
Nonetheless
Equal in result
FREEDOM
or the other
word GENOCIDE
for want of
Pride...

Psjwebber
11/08/24

Madam, in eden, i’m adaM.
Eve did the deed
and deified god,
He has his eye on you,
Dennis and Edna sinneD
too.

Won’t lovers revolt noW?
We do not say a peep as
We panic in a peW
Because
He lived as a devil, eH?
Wow!

Sir, i demand, i am a maid named iriS.
Ma is a nun, as i aM,
Never a foot too far, eveN.
Red roses run no risk, sir, on nurse’s ordeR
But, red apples and serpents do.
Tut, tut, tut.

©️Lizzie Bevis

a kid likes drawing
so thats what they do
but they would mess up sometimes
so they scoured for an eraser
and find one to remove their mistake


that kid still likes drawing
so that's what they do
but they mess up sometimes
so they scour for an eraser
but this time they can't find one
because there is no eraser for skin

People are like leaves
Some have been stepped on
And some have just fallen
Some have been taken by a child and cherished
And some left on the bottom of the leaf pile
Forgotten

People are like leaves
So different from each other
Some older
Some younger
Different shapes and sizes
Colors mixed together

People are like leaves
Some are misshapen and not picked up
And some are declared beautiful and get straightened in a book

I recall the day I first saw you, amid the frigid depths of winter, as I sought even a trace of warmth from the sun. My gaze found that warmth in you. When you drew near, you stunned me, clasping my cold hands in yours, imbuing them with warmth. I remember, too, the day I waited in that same chill for one final glimpse of you—only to be left, forsaken, my hands still cold, yearning for the warmth you once brought.

She left me in the coffin,
Let go of my hand.
Will she remember me?
When I'm buried in the sand?

Take away this feeling,
Is this even real?
Or am I still dreaming,
Awake in this ordeal?

God, is this my fate?
To leave me in this casket to drown?
Why won't you save me?
Pull me up so I don't fall down?

But she smiled at me, before she left.
Kissed me and wished me the best.
Could of taken me with you,
But she said "let the fallen rest".

But I don't want rest,
So I open my eyes.
Am I back in her bed?
No, I'm back in mine.

I see you're a bit damaged.
I'm a bit damaged, true.
After all we all at times fall.
Are we not human
With imperfect flesh?
Yes, at times, our lives
And our minds are a mess,
Yes, a big old ****** wreck,
Which others cannot seem
To avert their eyes away from.
Yet, they should look inward instead
Because they are damaged, too.
So, what is a human to do
But to make a tent of love
And protect all from
The damaging rains of hate.