Have you ever wondered
If your existence was simply
A universal mistake?
That when your mom talks about
Almost making sure
That you weren't born
That something got in the way
That shouldn't have?

I lay here in agony
Believing this
Believing in my supposed
Unexistance

When she talks about forgetting
That you even exist
Other than when she randomly gets
A little reminder
I sit and I wonder
If that's maybe just the universe glitching
Because somewhere in some time
I wasn't meant to be

I sit and I wonder
If my supposed unexistance
Can explain everything away
Because maybe its the universes way
Of trying to correct its mistake

I'm not a mistake here
Not there
Or anywhere on a level of your attention
I'm a mistake on the level
Of universal inattentiveness

My existence has been pure hell
Full of near death experiences
Via my own hands and others
But I am a quantum mistake
That isn't easily erased
Even tho I long to be

I sit and I wonder
If my supposed unexistance
Can explain everything away
Because maybe its the universes way
Of trying to correct its mistake

Are all the failed relationships
Simply because the universal pairs
Made between one person and another
Had never included me in the equation?

Is my upbringing full of abuse
And horrors beyond comprehension
Simply because you can't love
Something that wasn't meant to be
In existence?

Does my body fail me
Fall apart
And crumble more and more
Throughout every year that passes
Simply because I wasn't meant to be?

Is the reason that no supports
Can be accessed by me
And I can't get any help for me
Or my disabilities
Simply because the world wasn't built to house me?

Is my existence a universal
Quintessential
Quantum mistake?

One that will only be corrected
By my
Unexistance?

I believe the answer is yes
Because I am floating
Unbound
Through pain
And through hell
With no universal help

What words do you say to your only son,                                                             ­                                                                 ­                                                                 ­                                         
When he's going to jail on a ****** one?                                                             ­                                                                 ­                                        
Do you tell him to be brave & strong?                                                          ­    
                                                            ­                                                          
Do you confront him on being wrong?                                                           ­ 
                                                               ­                                                       
Do you hug him knowing his life is through?                                              
                                                                ­                                                      
Remind him of what he's done to you?                                                      
      ­                                                                 ­                                               
  Do you smile & put on a brave face,                                                   
                                                                ­                                                  
  knowing he'll spend life in a hellish
place?                                                        
                                                                ­                                                      
Do you promise to visit him frequently,                                                      ­      
                                                                ­                                                    
Knowing he'll serve his life lonely?                                                          ­                                                                 ­                                                                       ­                       
What do you say to your only son,                                                             ­   
                                                                 ­                                             
When you know he's guilty on a ****** one?                                          
                  ­                                                                 ­                               
Do you support him as best as you can?                                                          
                                                                ­                                                  
Do you tell him to be the better man?                                                          
  ­                                                                 ­                                               
Do you tell him to tell the whole truth?                                                           ­ 
                                                                ­                                              
Knowing exactly what it's going to do?                                              
                                                                ­                                                  
Do you blame him or blame yourself?                                                        ­                                                                 ­               
You didn't load the shotgun shells                                                           ­             
                                                                ­                                                  
Do you throw your hands in the air?                                                            
­                                                                 ­                                                 
Cry out to God in your despair?                                                         ­                 
                                               ­                                                                 ­  
Do you fall to your knees & pray?                                                          
                                                                ­                                                    
Do you let him find his own way?                                                             ­     
                                                                ­                                                        
Do you cry & break down
inside?                                                          ­            
                                                    ­                                                             
 Tell him there's no reason to
lie?                                                             ­         
                                                       ­                                                       
What do you tell your only son,                                                             ­               
                                                 ­                                                             
Whe­n he's going to die for a ****** one.

you get
i stay put
you exhausted
and i have energy
back into water
the land
gave me, defend
no war
less waters
more oceans, charts
sights, and steering
steering from within land
**
another bleak outlook
and my pen and internal
ability, become, unfold
distant danger on both headings
get us there, not home

and they are gone, never coming back
and i am them, and you are not
taking you to them, and i am not where
where i should be?

steering into the wars, of want
of want i am unfamiliar
and to provide description
i am without contempt
response is craze
death, inner depth's casual, take

the taking of homes, before
before another work
another chart
somber dayling, i will drag you over
over dragging, somber ending
i remove you
describing the me
ending them

By now it's well past nine,
but all I do is part the blinds,
head spinning, hair awry,
messed up sheets, covers up high.
And my day disappears. In my bedroom
my house, while powerful
people make powerful choices,
powerful problems, as I
pour another coffee, blinking back haze,
a stupid teenage phase.

It's past nine and all I do is
blur another line. Overlook the
scope of what I know we can't escape.
Where affluence is influence,
privilege; potential. Fighting a frenzy
threatening my future.
I stare at my windows foggy glass
in a quiet room, inconsequential.
As numbers feed sinners
and a sinner's scent lingers.

My afternoon morning-voice vocalises
prospects - don't expect experience
except where artists lay down
to die.
Should I go out and have a walk?
Should I shock my mind awake? Awake
away from mistakes - take away the
ache for a clean slate, for my state
is stained and tainted - tongue tied.

It's past nine. My school shoes
are worn through, but they're mine. I
pull the laces too tight, constricting;
grasping control where control
contributes only to collapse. Collapsing,
as they're wading through the
landfill to find a throne to
recline on, willing to
pile up any bodies that they need to
climb on. Tears freeze on my
cheeks into pearls. They sell
them as necklaces admist the peril
of a nation with drowning youth - no
fear, no thought - the truth.

They poison air with gases they
can't name, and breathe the last
lungful and avoid all blame as
the air is ****** out of
the wind. My window. Suffocate.

It's well past nine, should I get
up in the meantime?

I thought I could outrun the weight,
but the burden was never mine—
like a passenger begging for control,
but only the crash was waiting,
and I didn't even scream.

The bottle, your loyal companion,
Numbing your pain and fuelling your vice,
Dragging you deeper into the abyss,
Evading the value of your precious life.

Each warm sip, a false promise of solace,
Betraying your heart and ravaging your mind,
Shackled by the chains of hard addiction,
You become a prisoner to demons unkind.

The cheer of old times fades to silence,
As the light in your eyes slowly dies,
Unsteady with no anchor to ground you,
Treading a sea of lonely, unsettled demise.

You tell me you want to break free,
To see the world through sober eyes,
But the waves keep pulling you under,
As you drown in whiskey's tragic goodbye.

©️Lizzie Bevis

I'm scared, okay?
I'm scared I'll never be loved,
I'm scared I'll never be held,
I'm scared I'll never be wanted.

I don't know how to change this.
I'm not one of feelings,
I can't express them.

I'm scared my thoughts will push you away
I'm scared my bones won't hold me straight
I'm scared I'll never find a way to
be loved.

"Can I interest you in a sarcastic comment?"
is something like Chandler would say
But what if I can't even make my own
defense mechanism protect me?
What if you don't like my jokes;
the only thing that might be good in me?
But that's not even the problem, is it?
I can't even find strengths to tell'em out loud
I can't even let you decide if you'll laugh or leave
I can't even

I'm scared, okay?
I'm scared that no one will ever know me,
will never want to know me
I'm scared I'll never find the words to fool you,
to make you think I might be interesting
I'm scared no one will ever think I'm worthed
of spending their whole life with
Why would they?
I'm just a quiet dull girl

I'm scared, okay?
Because
I love myself, okay?
I do.
I'm scared I won't ever find anyone else
that will love me as much as I do
I'm scared that's all that's left for me
Keep being one thing only:
unlovable
as I've always been

She once held my face like I was her world,
Now her words cut deep, like daggers unfurled.
She looks at me now with disdain in her eyes,
What was once treasured, now she despises.

I see stuff sometimes, each one like a blade,
Saying this situation makes her spirit fade.
Not from the place or somewhere, but from me, I know—
A reminder of the love she let go.

A person who sees me a disdain, needs to run far away,
That every corner of a place brings her dismay.
But it's not the streets, it’s what she can’t bear,
The ghost of who I was still hanging there.

I feel it all—the whispers, the weight,
The way a person rewrites love into hate.
That silence screams louder than any blow,
Crushing the heart that once made me glow.