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: En juillet, la pluie tant attendue est enfin tombée.

Poem: En juillet, la pluie tant attendue est enfin tombée.

Your 4 by 4
My innocence
Sweet hot suspense
90 miles per hour on the curves up the mountain, to show me what you know about being intense
Rain comes down and I’m listening to the Bends

I want to keep tabs on you even though it’s the wrong thing to do
Like deja vu
I’m rose, you’re blue
Falling off the skyscrapers ’cause I’m having fun
Nobody says I’m beautiful
I know it’s not that pitiful
And I’m so damn ill, it hurts

I found rejection in the cusp of a rose
I rolled my eyes and thought, of course

Congeniality isn’t my default
I had in mind all of these things to say
But I’m inclined to say I no longer get my way
For the devil’s child, it’s gotten late
I found,
You down
On your darkest day
I had in mind all of these things to say
I wanted to tell you I felt you fading away
And that wasn’t okay

I have a feeling you need to find yourself again
But I’m scared to leave because I know you need some help

I have a feeling you need to find yourself again
But I’m scared to leave because I know you need some help
I know you need some help

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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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