Poem: Calamine pink (bored)

Poem: Calamine pink (bored)

Maybe I was made in hell
The way I’m living is how I can tell

A lullaby of daffodils
You hold the camera and tell me to hold still
I’m like a melting candle, the way I’m built
Like Saturday night’s florals, I begin to wilt
Loose edges
Sharp corners
Haha, of course – you did it on purpose
You know, you’re so good at making me nervous
You open the window, but you shut the curtains
I can’t come too close because I will never be certain
If it’s you, the recent news is very concerning
I love to know everything about you, it’s my lust for learning
It’s doing me damage
I’m picking up patterns
I found a loose screw and some nails under the mattress
I have this beautiful velvet dress that’s strapless
But I’ve been gradually weakened, my violence is sapless
And him and his coffee is quite the distraction
Though I’m perilously stuck in perpetual subtraction

Doesn’t buy me roses
No visible action
It’s doing me damage
I’m picking up patterns

I have ten thousand things to tell you
But instead I asked for flowers
You, not so permissive
You aggressively declined
I dreamed of blush-coloured roses, they were just divine
Heaven sent on a plate, a black gun & red wine
I was just wondering if maybe next time…
I could have a guarantee for a cute little valentine
Yeah, sure, that works, he can show up at nine

I’ll look so perfect
I’ll smell of jasmine & pine
I’ve made a plan for our date, it’s a rough outline
I’ll fix up my hair, I’ll trim my waistline
For the misery you put me through, I’ll need an anodyne
I’ll paint my bedroom walls the carbonate powder of calamine
I’m not doing my best, I’m hardly even trying

Lazy afternoons in the pool when it’s forty degrees
I fall all the time, I have wounds on my knees
You’ve never said sorry, you rarely said please
Is it love, or is it the amphetamines?
Stop getting so mad
I’m only in my twenties
But I know the best stones are found at the cemeteries
And I know the absolute best are freshly grown blueberries
When you scream at me, I close my eyes because it’s scary
I think “happy thoughts,” I picture us married
But I keep thinking ’bout how pretty I’ll look when I’m buried

I wanted to be your only
You can’t handle being worried
I’d come for you
Never hesitate to hurry

It’s two in the morning
I’ve made tea for myself
I wear long faux lashes ’cause it’s good for my health
I’m little Team Captain, everything I do is the best
I’m losing my grip, I think I’m failing this test
When you’ve broken everything, what is there left?
They think I’m in a castle, I consider this a mess
Do me a favour and be my guest
When you find out what I’ve done,
Don’t think more – think less
Envisage
Dream about
The thrills the little boys and girls scream about
She forced herself to think of how he must be feeling
She forced herself to think of how he must be feeling
She forced herself to think of how he must be feeling

Girls never get complimented anymore
The boys just presume they’ll get bored
It’s a mistake they’re all making, that I’m sure
But I’m only one person, can I count as more?

She forced herself to think of how he must be feeling
She forced herself to think of how he must be feeling
She forced herself to think of how he must be feeling

Drowned in insecurity because it seemed like disposition
When you really want to die, you make it your mission

The boys just presume they’ll get bored

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Poem: Happiness collected in a vial

Poem: Happiness collected in a vial (Crying in the laboratory like a confused child)

I didn’t mean to make you cry
Kiss your fights goodbye
You asked why I was leaving, I gave you six reasons why
I had so many more
You slammed my front door
You thought you were entitled, thought you had me by du jour
I was addicted to the waves but began to feel so unsure

Stoicism is hard to connect with
You don’t have to figure it tomorrow
It’s about me becoming more secure, so I can choose a more secure man
Some look out for themselves like it’s their only chain of command
And others are more romantic
They’ll be there waiting for you at midnight when your plane lands
They won’t walk all over the ground on which your thin legs stand
They’ll open doors for you and make evening plans
They’ll play with you, and make castles out of the sand
It doesn’t have to be only pain for me to withstand
I think that’s what makes life so promising and grand

Life can be golden
Real hopes unfolded
I’m flowing, soft; I’m fluid molten
You see me running, you scream for me to stop
I’m a real class act, I’m awaiting your applause
I feel I’m being evaluated like I’m on the job
I’m sensitive, I think you forgot
Less capable of dealing with emotions than fractures or blood clots
I recognize this shade of red
You’re forever in my thoughts

It doesn’t have to be hard
Don’t believe all the others
They only know the love that was given to their mothers
And if we’re going to live together, we better try to understand each other
I’m patient and caring, especially to my lover
He’s the luckiest boy
I like them more when they’re rougher
In private, they’re soft around you and with raindrops they smother
But it feels like God knows you can be much tougher
And it feels like God knows your mind needs to rest
And it feels like God knows you deserve only the best
The last disaster you went through was nothing but a test

Good looks come in handy, notably being best-dressed
It’s how you compose yourself when you’re at your most stressed
You say I’m superficial
Please, I’m from the Midwest
I don’t respect positions where people leave themselves unexpressed
I seduce the chaos, I disquiet unrest
To engage in behavior simply out of self-interest
You have to be okay with crashing parties as an unwelcome guest
We’ll have the most fun
Chardonnay with the sun
We felt so late in our lives, but the times have just begun
I’ll tell you a secret
You’ll be the only recipient
Put down your drink and make me feel like someone

Before I dissolve into bitter obsolescence
I ask myself
How do I feel in your presence?
The good has to far outweigh the bad
I take all of my differently-shaped pills
I still remain sad
It’s crawling out of the pit, that turns you mad
When the ground hardens, it punctures your back
And every new sting feels just like an attack
For you, I’d give anything at the drop of a hat
But if you want me like this, well then I’ll turn out like that
Thursdays I read the news, next to my Siamese cat
My five-thousand Kelvin lightbulb – my daylight habitat
Something cute and clever written on the welcome mat
Floating in the Dead Sea with the carnivorous bats

I count all my blessings, but I’m never exact
If I could capture life, all the joy, I’d extract
I’d collect it in vials
Practice careful self-denial
Clear my parameters of all the mesophiles
You know what used to kill me, the sound of the dial

I’m starting fresh
I hold my breath
Decide to trust nobody with the data I obtain
Draw circles with fine-point pens
Contemplate what there is to gain
Am I really bored enough to self-inflict pain?
(I think if God was here he’d tell me I was going insane)

I don’t do it, but I strongly consider
Calling your contact, hearing the telephone dial
Listening to it ring for what’s taking a while
Letting disappointment take over my smile
Crying in the laboratory like a confused child

Drinking my tinted-pink, happiness-filled vial
And not even caring about what neurotransmitters I mess up
Because I’m just trying to get over what remains of you
I’m a girl in a lab coat with a career I love
But it’s three in the morning
I know nothing else to do

I no longer have you
I know nothing else to do
I spit out my sample
With these coping mechanisms, I’m through

I clean up the chaos
I open my eyes
I do what I do best, I stand back and analyze
But I can’t stop thinking about you gripping my thighs
Except enough time has passed that I don’t get the butterflies
I realize you were my absolute favourite thing to idolize
The dismissive things you said, I made sure to memorize
If I was to rely on you, I would quickly recognize

Swallowing a vial of joy wouldn’t contain memories of you
All my good times in life, you had nothing with to do
It was me that was there
Not you

When I was truly happy
It was me that was there
Not you

And no matter how much time passes, I’ll remain grateful that we’re through
When I was truly happy,
It was me that was there

Not you

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Poem: Anxious-avoidant attachment

Poem: Anxious-avoidant attachment

Anxious-avoidant attachment
A comatose, ever-encompassing detachment
This girl is officially a has-been
A messy state of internal affairs
When nobody in the world but you compares
When I wanted what was mine, but you said you were theirs
All the times you didn’t show up, I knew you were there
Saturday evening, I’ve never been so scared

I’m moving like waves in the sea
And all the world is crashing directly into me
Strangers tell me they love my poetry
It’s not as rosy as I sometimes make it out to be

The airfare is wavering thin
You’re crawling all over my skin
I try dancing, but my headache won’t let me spin
I try drinking, I keep ordering lime & gin
One love goes to sleep, another begins
No, not for me
He was my only prince
I don’t want anyone to see me like this
I don’t want your love if I have to convince
You want to get married, you better put it in print
But I found her belongings, trust me, I got the hint
I’ve been searching for you in everyone else ever since

Out of all the people to know, you can depend on me the most
I accept all the virus, I’m even pleased to be its host
I am the amphetamine Queen, born and raised on the West Coast
I spell out “I love you” on your cinnamon toast
You look up at me
You’re too blind to see
The emptiness that has overtaken every part of me
A bottom-feeder
A failed transplant
Organ harvesting on Michigan Avenue & Grant
It hurts like hell
I will prevail
My visage is pale
My words are sharp, but they soon go stale
They mean so little
I’m not really interested in anyone noncommittal
My hands always shake, my frame is so brittle
I looked so pretty in the blue gown at the hospital

I’m scared history will repeat itself
I have your shot glass on my grey bookshelf
The glass breaks over and over again
The hollowness of it is really my only friend
If this is the end, I want a boyfriend
To bury me with the roses just so I can pretend

That I’m happy here
No longer ruled by fear
And eventually I’ll disintegrate, fade to black, and disappear
Don’t come visit me
Don’t bother telling me

That your love was feigned for my sobriety

I’ll tell the truth, I lied
I drank every night
I kept mint juleps & lemon drops right by my bedside
Pink bubblegum
My favourite sparkling gun
You can’t be alone if you’re bathed by the sun
Some people watch films, I make them in my head
Every morning is a fresh start, so I always make the bed
All the texts you sent me, I left unread
When you said you couldn’t do it, I know what you meant
You won’t be invited to the day I wed
You’ll likely be drinking again, trapped in your mind instead
You got what you wanted, you don’t have to confess
Recovery is a palace but for you, it’s a stretch

I used to wake up vacant
Now I’m filled with love
I’m devoted and gentle like a little, white dove
I want to drain somebody with the dust dreams are made of
I want the kind of warmth you said I was unworthy of
I know now that you were wrong
I wrote you the sweetest song

And I sing it to my dog so that she can fall asleep
And I sing it to my dog so that she can fall asleep
And I sing it to my dog so that she can fall asleep
And I sing it to my dog so that she can fall asleep
And I sing it to my dog so that she can fall asleep
And I sing it to my dog so that she can fall asleep
And I sing it to my dog so that she can fall asleep
And I sing it to my dog so that she can fall asleep

I give it to her because her love, I can keep
I give it to her because her love, I can keep

In my darkest times, there was no you and me
I’d rather be alone if that’s the way things will be

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Poem: 3 in the morning (God loves you)

Poem: 3 in the morning (God loves you)

Sometimes at night
I think of you
(I’m lying – I always think of you)
There’s nothing else I’d rather do
It’s the bittersweet sting of being hopelessly enamored with you

The more you want it, the farther away it becomes
You stay up late and say you’ll sleep next to the sun
He says he’s running late, but he never does come
That’s the sad truth about not being the only one
I twirl my hair
I spin around
I choke so hard I fall to the ground
And if you calculated my efforts, I’d pay by the pound
I’m lost in abysmal and undulating surround sound

He put black padding on the walls to keep the voices quiet
Asked me what my favourite wine was and said that he’d buy it
Passed me angel dust, but I said I won’t try it
This time I’m not lying
It hurts more to keep trying
Don’t blame it on timing
If I am dust, you are worn out leather from a cow that loved to live and breathe fresh air
You ran your fingers through my soft, blonde hair
I knew you were unaware
You had me right there
You had me

Boys have short attention spans, so I’m working on making my poems shorter
As if a somber gaze doesn’t scratch at the envelope
As if the disposable cardboard coaster I kept from the bar we went to last year isn’t practically at its wit end
But I stare at it at night and I like to pretend
That you and I will never end
(You spin me round and round, you scream, you bend)
I only liked when you were drinking
Because you never stopped talking
And I could listen to your words for endless summer days

I’m watching my step
I’m too sharp for this town
I reached the vault of heaven, but you pushed me back down
And every time I walk away from you, I turn right back around
You’re the most beautiful thing that I have ever found

And if you want me, please tell me
That’s all that I ask
Because I don’t know how much longer
I can contain this chaotic energy, it’s only a setback
It pays for my grave
Collects debt at the tollbooth
Serves me a clean slate I can’t afford and makes it taste like dry vermouth
A botanical celestial atmosphere where there was you and I appeared and you said come here, baby girl, my doe-eyed dear
Please, my angel, don’t you ever disappear

I say never
Won’t do it
I’ll always be here

But you’re so distant from me that my words sound unclear
And the walls are blurry and they’re bleeding red
And I bought pink satin sheets for my queen-sized bed
And I wait every night for you to come fall sleep
But if your love cuts my skin, it doesn’t go very deep
If your flaws were secrets, they’d be mine to keep
And I replay your laugh in my mind on fucking repeat

I know only one thing that’ll make me complete
But if it’s me against her, I’m too weak to compete
I am a glacier dissolving in sunburns and aggressive summer heat
But I still thank God because he arranged for us to meet
I know it as much as I love the window seat
But I see you and her, so I make a spreadsheet
Of all the ways this is going to kill me
Please stop, only you can heal me
I need you like candy
I crave all of you
I know that my hopes are too good to be true
So I lay on the concrete, I only see in ocean-blue

I scream at God for letting me fall in love with you
It’s 3 in the morning
There’s nothing else to do

© Elle Silvestrov

I only liked when you were drinking
Because you never stopped talking
And I could listen to your words for endless summer days

Poem: 3 in the morning (God loves you)

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Poem: Mid-18th century French (intoxicating you)

Poem: Mid-18th century French (intoxicating you)

I’m baby blueprint in grid print intoxicating you
I’m the Fourth of July, 3 summers ago when we got high
We asked when did we stop having the times of our lives

My neck is so hurt, it’s too much for me to look down
But I always do
Redirect to separate avenues
Skateboard to my house, I’ll come out for you
Green apple lollipop, sour
Teach me your tricks and make it rain for a half-hour
Just enough to get the grill hot
Just enough to get me to take the most bone-chilling cold shower
I’m coming in hot
But I always leave so cold
In the cab I sit there- forlorn, morose, staring at the floor
Letting the kids run by and do what they’re told
I reminisce about the days when to be elegant wasn’t to be bold, and I coughed like raindrops like saran-wrap covering old left-overs
If it rains it pours, well you’re leaving – I’m sure
You always thought your music taste was so obscure
If it rains, it pours
Well, you’re leaving – I’m sure

I’m melting into hydrocodone bitartrate so crystallized you’d sell me for my Chemistry degree and put my name on your white t-shirts
Spray mist on your face until you’re reimbursed
Like daggers, how smooth you are when fatalities aren’t your responsibility, and you make your way down to the ferry where the starfishes know your name and keep it a secret
Nobody cares anyway

I’m coming in hot
But I always leave so cold

It’s too much for me to look down
But I always do
Reaching separate avenues

I said, life is a gamble
But I’m covering my face with my hands
My life is in shambles!
Can someone help me escape from this nonchalant misery I’ve so gracefully pretended is how to live a life?
I don’t make sense to anyone
I’m always deleting phone numbers
Past lovers
The smothered
The weak and the downtrodden, England in the shade
Four in the afternoon
Crisp, deafening cave
When you and I were little, we loved to misbehave
But now the landlord is asking for payments for our graves
And it’s mid-18th century French and it means
“Go fuck yourself”

Somber
Oppressively sober in mood
He looked at her with this decadent tone that I’d almost call smooth
If it wasn’t for the violence we heard up the street
The night skies were starless
I fell asleep regardless
I just wanted to escape for a week or two
I never knew my nightmares would come true
I liked the dark and the dull in colour but honey, what happened to you?
What’d they do to you?
What are you so scared of?
Why do you still try to write songs out of my poetry?
Why do you recycle and reread my emails?
Why do you send me false compliments in the mail?
Why’d you hire an attorney when you’d likely be better off in jail?
I don’t particularly adapt to being hated
I just deal
Fifty-dollar bill
I have a white dress that makes me look like a ghost and I thought I met a new boy that would love me the most
But he’s slipping out of my fingers, of course
Tell me I’m not predictable

Grey daffodils, crisp July skies
I just wanted to escape for a week or two
I never knew my nightmares would come true
It’s November and there’s not much more to expect from the undesirable residue
I just hoped I could sit down and paint you
Make something beautiful
Capture a black button-down shirt

Was it good when it hurt?
I’m stumbling over forgotten words
Insecure (or in great difficulties)
He was miserable without her

All is not lost
There is still some chance of success or recovery
But me, haha, me?
Sometimes when a defeat has been sustained
It’s better for everyone involved that you don’t speak my name

Not that there is much to be ashamed
It’s just
Was it good when it hurt?
I told you over and over,
I’m not a good flirt

I’m not a good flirt

If it rains, it pours
And it’s mid-18th century French and it means
“Go fuck yourself”