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: Brand new, morning dew

Brand new, morning dew

You
You just accept
That we could’ve been the best
That you and I are worlds apart
I can’t forget the rest
You, wearing blue
I walk away from you
I hate telling you the truth
I’m sober and so full of you

white rose, flower, dew

Me
Here
Waiting a long time for the train
Sipping my cappuccino in the rain
Wishing I could start again
Brand new
Morning dew
Confiscate the worst words from you
That you throw in my direction
The police break down our door for an inspection
They try to take what’s the best of us
They can’t take this away from us
I’m everything you wanted and more
And more, and more, and more
I’m everything you wanted and more

Walking to the market
You in my favorite boy outfit
White t-shirt and black jeans
The sky today feels serene
You’re in a bad mood, you get mean
Sudden hospitality
Animosity towards those who aren’t us
We chain ourselves into a box
False pretense that we’re free

But thank god it’s you and me
Thank god it’s you and me

But thank god it’s you and me
Thank god it’s you and me

While the others live tragically, it’s still you and me

shirt, white shirt, monochrome

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Poem: Bridge over troubled waters (lazy days)

For a brief moment sunshine fell upon my face

I let God’s light take me to  a breathtaking place

I soaked in the sun rays like an encouraging haze
I closed my eyes and wished for better days
Hope
Holding onto it
Trembling
Feet dangling over the balcony’s wall that I sit on, fifth floor
Give you affection and give you some more
You’re not an eyesore
What’s mine, baby it’s yours
Only if you deserve 

Bridge over troubled waters
Playing on the record player as I mop the kitchen floors, wet from the leak in the ceiling
I’m thinking, I’m feeling
Can’t even believe it
I see better days coming
I see reuniting with the shore
Surfing and bathing suits, for sure

I remembered how he refused to read my poems
Didn’t realize they were all about him
Not other boys
So I said my goodbyes
Blocked his number, changed mine
For a second the sunshine made me feel divine
But as I walked right through it
I passed it and turned around
It was gone
It had left
And an apathy I almost felt
But I thought never mind, because I won’t neglect
All the others that depend on me
To be strong, to foresee
Each little admirable quality
In them
In me
In the leaves on the highest fiddle-leaf fig trees
That sway in the breeze

I’ve said my goodbyes
Kept them wondering why
All my lazy days amounted to somethin’
She was so young, it happened all of a sudden

All my lazy days amounted to somethin’
Freeways calm me down
Settle down my nerves
Soon, a place that won’t hurt
Soon, a place that won’t hurt

Leave me deep in the dirt
So good that it hurts


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Poem: Paranoid and proud (10,000 times)

Paranoid and proud (10,000)

Enigmatic, or desolate

I knock on your door slowly
Trembling
I don’t want to interrupt your work
You tell me to crawl over to the desk
I said babe, I’ve got a headache
My hair is a mess
I can’t pass your tests

I’m stupid and paranoid
None of your answers make sense
Where were you last Tuesday
Who was that in the car
You reach for another cigar
You’re the most beautiful boy but your personality is tar
You’re mean about my scars

A variation of you and me (but it’s just a fantasy)

The white roses have died
Is it me or my pride
That I always remind you of how my favorite man died
I know I’m a burden, I scream on the inside
Walking on eggshells
Tiny glass fragments
When you threw the vase at the wall because you couldn’t find your glasses
The white roses, they’ve died anyway
Entered a state of decay
Quite like I have, and it’s how I will stay
The light has left me, what do you make of my remains
I’m more revolting every day

Chaos and butterflies
Surprise me with flowers
Plant a tree every time you yawn when I talk about my interests
If this isn’t love or lust then what is this
Why do I sit on your lap every time you come around
How come I put my face to a pillow so that I don’t make a sound
How come you told me that the next time I get lost you hope I won’t ever be found
Like pitch black surround sound

I turn to the other side
I do my best to hide
Is that another exhibition of my pride?

You told me you loved to listen
You lied
Ten thousand times

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Poem: 3 missed calls

I want to fall in love

flowers, bouquet, floral

Would you rather keep all the memories you have up until now?
Or start all over again
I ask you while we’re walking alongside the fog, the mountains
The sea on the other side
Would you want to live this life over?
I pick at a four-leaf clover
Come over for dinner, and let’s go out for dessert
I want to fall in love
But I don’t want it to hurt
I dig through the dirt

The sea on the other side

But I don’t want it to hurt

I feel lost and alone
Statements I never thought I’d share
I’ve shed enough of my personality to the point where I’m rebuilding it
Look at me in this black dress, how’s the fit of it?
I have panic attacks, I can’t manage it
But I do
I do

Sunday evening, watching the news
Holding the baby
You come in, new vinyl in, midtown Blues
Just thinking, I think I found a clue
About what you’re about to do
You feed off opportunity, I’ll catch up to you

pink, rose, flower
Collapsing all of the time

Going 120 miles per hour, I need the sky to go from blue to grey
I can’t stand up straight when things don’t go my way
I fall into the warm bath
Slip under, wet my long hair
Blue and blues and blue again
Turn me into someone I’m not
Tell me it’s my phone number you’ve forgot
My voicemail at the end of your beat on SoundCloud
Think you can bring a tough crowd?
You, and your life — are you proud?
It’s 500 Fahrenheit
Am I shouting too loud?
Too distracted trying to deal, barely making a sound

In a daze- it’s a familiar haze

I slip and fall into the bath
Wash my hair, scrub my porcelain face
Trying not to have a third panic attack
The dial kept going, you said you’d call right back
I’m a masterpiece in God’s eyes
I’m a drug in them guys’ eyes

But when I look at myself
(And I’m screaming and shouting)
And I pull my hair out
(And I’m screaming and shouting)
And the fog rolls in
(And I’m screaming and –

3 missed calls

blue lagoon, pool, swimming

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