Poem: Burial ground (true love)

Poem: Burial ground (true love)

I’m a very kind and gracious girl
If you let me, I will give you the world
But as the brutality of this world continues to unfold
My mirror’s edge is veiled, my patience can’t be sold

Give me your garden
Make everything quiet
I swear I’m prettiest when I’m not lying
I won’t give up hoping, I won’t stop trying
But it would be a piece of fiction to say I don’t dream of dying

You’re laughing at me
My blonde hair blows in the breeze
I will prevail, even though they’re dead-set on bringing long-lasting harm to me
I see through the trees
When I run, you freeze
Collapsing in child’s fables isn’t only for the weak
Take me with you
I want to know what God knows
Don’t be scared of the nighttime
In the darkest hours, I’m most composed

The more you grow up, the smarter you think you are
But in the same circumstances, you always lose yourself
I collect hard-cover books of flowers & death spells
I know all the wonderful roses by their first and last names
I play with my sanity like it’s my favourite win-or-lose game
You were always so harsh
But me? Oh, so tame
Didn’t know how to respond to all the accusations and shame
I hate you, I love you
It all sounded the same

I’ve decided to take my most loved photo of us down from my shelf
I thought it proved we were real
The space between you and myself
But my mitral valve is still broken, so I can’t afford to inconvenience oneself
Though our smiles were true
You said it yourself
Never seen a girl look at you so warm and heartfelt
It hurts now
But it didn’t back then
Those split seconds repeat in my mind, again and again
You were my prince, my most handsome immunogen
You said I stunned in my floral dress
Dainty and parisienne

I know this frail body wasn’t exactly built to please
I’m a young girl too – I have restraint, but I have needs
My singleness of purpose is far too remote
I tend to break up with boys by posting poems I wrote
When I was at my most fragile, I asked you for a rose
Your promises were painful because I never got those

But your perseverance to love me will be your best power
I stay up wondering how to please you
I only sleep a few hours
Me at my most tired is me at my most sour
How much more beautiful do I need to be, in order to receive a white flower?
I’m sort of like a princess stuck at the crown of a tower
My father’s hung flyers for the peasants and princes to form a line
Some of them have courage
Some barely have a spine
The common denominator seems to be they’re all trying
But if you said it’s to impress me, I’d say that you’re lying

Several days ago, I bought roses
To make myself smile
I didn’t change the water
Just like me, they’re dying

Winters in Chicago were when I felt my most free
The wind chill was so strong, I felt it belonged to me
It didn’t matter that it was a lake, I still saw it as the sea
All I remember are evenings at Argo Tea
Feeling happy, just to be me

You must have composure, you must be determined
I’m taking care of myself, I’m doing it on purpose
The December chill confronts me with things I am sure of
Like how spontaneously great heights can collapse
Like how the disillusioned are most likely to relapse
Like how I felt, true love was almost in my grasp

But as the fog on my window, it visited and then passed
It disappeared just like that
I’m trying not to react

I’m screaming into my pillow
(I’m trying not to react)
I’m folding laundry to feel productive
(I’m scared of whom I’ll attract)
I lied to everybody & said I was fine
(I was so scared the whole time)
I’m taking every analeptic
(I write your name, strike it out with a line)

I picture me in your backyard,
Picking grapes off the vine
I cried the whole way home, driving past the coastline
I thought I didn’t deserve beauty, God doesn’t want me on cloud nine
So I hit up your number,
Forgot you were atropine
And now I’m having trouble sleeping because you aren’t my lifeline
I tell you
I need you!
You say, maybe next time
“I’ve got a girl here, she’s helping me escape my mind”

To some people, I’m gorgeous
To you, I’m saccharine
But everything I am, you will always undermine
I’m not your chosen one
Never your valentine

I’m the one that treads water
Looking for reasons to be alive

If you were safety, you wouldn’t give me your hand
You’d sail towards what suits you
The palm trees, the sand

I would get tired
Give up and drown
You wouldn’t say sorry, because you wouldn’t be around

The water obscures my hearing
The green-blue current is the only sound
I wanted to be loved, the void was what I found
But the ocean is my new bliss, so I fade into the background
I’m five again, I’ve found my new playground

I would get tired
Give up and drown
You wouldn’t say sorry, you wouldn’t be around
I’m five again, I’ve found my new playground
The sea has become my chosen burial ground
The green-blue current is the only sound

The void is what I felt, but true love is what I found

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Dedicated to: James Mark Davies.

Poem: A hundred drops per second

When I met you, you hated yourself
Like you were afraid of yourself
As the storms went on,
You found it to be best to be by yourself
And there,
I was,
Watching a man crumble in front of my very timid but sparkling eyes
It was no surprise
You liked salt wounds and touching my inner thighs
But I –
I bask when I wake with the sunrise
And you –
You look down on me for loving everything until it dies
You hate the earth
And you wonder why
It doesn’t pity you back

I moved out, clean new apartment
Living with a friend
I’m working on my craft
No longer at my wit’s end
Looking forward to all the money I’ll spend
Me?
And you?
Will we ever make amends?

I care no longer
I wouldn’t bother
Oh, your poor father
He knows what’s in the water

I care no longer
I wouldn’t bother
Oh, your poor father
He knows what’s in the water

If I were to swim
To you
To build a new continent
I’d turn around
Find a river raft
You think I’m strange and daft
Never read any of my first drafts
Fell out of love just like that

Now you –
Hopefully you’ll remember the words I’ve said
But it no longer matters to me
Whether you’re alive or dead
Instead

Don’t lose your head
It’s not worth it
We were perfect
But we weren’t
And I’m gasping
For thin air like –

A hundred drops per second

©️ Elle Silvestrov

Poem: Surface tension (poolside dreams)

I saw the skinniest girls at the pool today
They were all bone, with graceful flat stomachs
I started to hate myself again
And I considered if
Maybe I was going too far
Maybe they have scars to hide too
But I traced their gentle bodies with my disturbing eyes
And I couldn’t find a somber disguise
Or any evidence that they hate themselves too

Maybe I didn’t look deep enough
What’s on the surface conceals what’s underneath

I toss and turn wildly in my bedsheets
And maybe the spaces of my ribs and the lights in-between
No longer shine, no longer gleam
I look dirty even when I’m entirely clean
I try to smile, but I can’t hold back that I’m so, so mean

They splashed each other while in the water
I knew if I smiled I’d only bother
But maybe they were growing sick of each other
At that point, I’d be a newfound lover
But when it rains it decays what’s left of me
I only feel blissful when I’m swimming in the sea (I feel like it’s a part of me)
I am opalescent in matters of blue
Your favourite shades of Hunter green
Writing poetry with a ruptured spleen
I miss being a fragile and innocent young teen
Didn’t stop you from touching me

Didn’t stop you from touching me
You claimed that you were teaching me
But my skin turned dark like you were leaching me
I’d have the strongest, most bizarre of nightmares
Wake up sweating, alone, and scared
A modest, timid girl
Too small to be bared
You dragged my body up the crystallized stairs

What’s on the surface conceals what’s underneath
When the gun started firing, the bed I hid beneath
Is it always as rosy as the daydream makes it seem?
My God, being dead sounds so fucking serene

My God, being dead sounds so fucking serene

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