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Beccah Bath Poem
If you have to ruin me,
don't do it under kitchen lights
or in parked cars
or over phone calls filled with silence.
Take me somewhere the sky is endless.
Somewhere the stars
have been dying for years
without anyone noticing.
Let me look up at something ancient,
something that understands
how beautiful things can disappear.
And if this is the ending,
if I have to lose whatever version
of me still believes in forever,
then let it happen there.
Because I think
I'd rather break apart
Beneath constellations
Than inside another room that forgets
Copyright © Beccah Bath | Year Posted 2026
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Beccah Bath Poem
The Untouchable
I stand where love is passed from hand to hand,
A warmth I feel, yet never truly hold;
It blooms for others just beyond my stand,
While mine remains a story never told.
I’ve learned to smile at vows not meant for me,
To bless the joy I’ll never claim as mine;
I trace its shape in what will never be,
A ghost of hope I’ve trained myself to blind.
It lives in glances I was not designed to keep,
In tender words that falter at my name;
I bury want so carefully and deep,
Till longing dulls and scarcely feels the same.
Some hearts are forged to witness from afar—
To know of love, yet never touch the star.
Copyright © Beccah Bath | Year Posted 2026
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Beccah Bath Poem
So this is how it ends
Not with darkness
With exhaustion
For billions of years
I mistook burning for living
I gave away pieces of myself
So gradually it looked like light
They looked up at me and called it beautiful
No one called it loss
Planets build their lives around my certainty
Measure time by my arrival
Never noticing that every sunrise costs me
And yet
If I were to begin again, I would still choose to shine
What is a star if not a thing that spends itself so something else can grow
The darkness waits at the edge of me now
Patient
Ancient
Hungry
But I am not afraid
I have lived a thousand lives inside the eyes that looked up
And when I finally go
The light will keep travelling long after I’m gone
A final reminder that endings are rarely where things end
Copyright © Beccah Bath | Year Posted 2026
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Beccah Bath Poem
I look for beauty in sunsets,
in strangers passing by,
in the way light rests on everything it touches.
Everywhere except the mirror.
The mirror is honest.
It doesn’t blur the lines
or soften the stories
written into my skin.
It remembers the nights I don’t talk about.
The battles no one saw me win.
There are marks on me that once felt like endings.
Now they are quiet reminders that I stayed.
And still,
I stand there searching for something soft,
something lovely —
As if survival isn’t already a kind of beauty.
Maybe one day
I’ll look at my reflection
and see not the hurt,
not the history —
but the strength it took to still be here.
Copyright © Beccah Bath | Year Posted 2026
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Beccah Bath Poem
I think what angers me most isn't that you might leave.
It's that you handed me a decision
I was never allowed to make.
You decided I should have known.
You decided what I meant.
You decided what my silence said.
And somewhere in all that deciding,
you forgot to ask me.
You wanted an explanation,
but only if it agreed with the story you'd already written.
So don't tell me I wasn't honest.
Tell me
you stopped listening
before I started speaking.
Copyright © Beccah Bath | Year Posted 2026
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Beccah Bath Poem
The Man Who Raised Me
They say you lose people as you grow
but I lost you before I even understood
what losing meant.
You were there from the very beginning.
Before I had memories,
before I had words,
before I knew how to be anything on my own.
You carried me when I couldn’t walk,
taught me the world in ways I didn’t even notice then.
You weren’t just my grandad—
you were everything.
The one who showed up,
every time without question,
without fail.
And then one day… you didn’t.
I was seven.
Too young to understand why the person
who had always been there suddenly wasn’t.
Too young to realise that losing you
would shape everything that came after.
I don’t remember everything—
that’s the part that hurts the most.
Just pieces.
Moments.
Feelings I can’t fully place.
But I know this:
the love you gave me never really left.
It just stayed—
quiet, unfinished,
growing with me in ways you never got to see.
And I think a part of me is still that child,
waiting for you to walk back through the door
like you always did.
Copyright © Beccah Bath | Year Posted 2026
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Beccah Bath Poem
People write about fireworks.
About stolen kisses in the rain.
About grand declarations that change everything.
But I don't think that's where love lives.
Love
I think
looks less like fireworks
and more like Tuesdays.
I want to be the girl you come home to after a long day.
The one who already knows whether you need
to talk, to laugh or just to sit in comfortable silence.
I want to eat dinner with you when neither of us can decide what to cook.
To argue over what to watch.
To steal your hoodie because it's closer than mine.
I want to know which side of the bed you sleep on
And exactly how you take your coffee
I want to be the first person you call
when life gives you something worth celebrating
and the one who quietly puts the kettle on when it doesn't.
I want to grow with you.
To cheer for dreams that become plans,
Plans that become memories,
and memories that become a life.
Because I don't dream of extraordinary.
I dream of the life that happens
between the milestones.
Love
I think
looks less like fireworks
and more like Tuesdays.
Copyright © Beccah Bath | Year Posted 2026
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Beccah Bath Poem
I thought I knew you
I knew the way you smiled,
The things that made you laugh,
The softness in your voice when you said my name.
I knew the person I thought you were
Maybe that’s where I went wrong
I took every good thing you gave me and build a person around it
I filled in the empty spaces with everything I wanted you to be
I mistook potential for promise
Kindness for character
Words for truth
I thought I might actually love you
But I loved the version of you I created
I spent a year learning you,
Choosing you,
Believing in you.
A year of memories,
Conversations,
Patience,
Forgiveness
And second chances.
A year of giving you parts of myself
I believed I was giving them to someone who deserved them.
Then you showed me who you were when there was nothing left to gain from pretending.
And suddenly everything became clear.
You hadn’t changed
I had.
I stopped looking at you through the eyes of someone who wanted to believe
And for the first time,
I saw exactly who you were.
And god was that the hardest part.
Not losing you
Realising I had spent a year investing in someone I never truly knew.
Because I can’t get that year back
I can’t take back the effort,
The feelings,
The nights I stayed,
The times I forgave,
Or the future I imagined.
And maybe I lied to myself
When I said that, I didn't regret it.
Because I do.
I regret the year.
The chances.
The patience.
The forgiveness.
The parts of myself I gave away.
I regret how long I spent trying to understand someone I have never truly known.
But maybe that’s okay
Maybe I don’t have to make what happened beautiful just because I wanted it to be.
Maybe I regret it.
Maybe I can be angry that I gave a year to someone who was never who I thought they were.
And maybe that’s the easiest part of it all.
Because now I can walk away from the person I thought you were
And you made it easy for me to do so.
Copyright © Beccah Bath | Year Posted 2026
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