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: White dwarf star

Poem: White dwarf star

I know I’m not that confident, but I am kind
I feel like I’m dragging my steps and leaving no trace behind
And the work is real hard, it’s that nonstop grind
Makes you bite your nails all the time

And I can’t fit the frame of reference
How you said you were desperate
But when you sucked your chest in
You terrified me to pieces
The kind of ache you bring me bites like leeches
All I want in this world is to lie with you on all the beaches
You release anesthetic, but you still make me bleed
Your love and your reign are all I really need
To make me complete

Washed blood
Criminal state-of-mind
Collecting contraceptives
Cold, hard cement
Warm, worn work boots
Unstable supply of mixed substances

I tell you to swallow, and you look straight in my eyes
It’s like you’re falling in love for the very first time
And I’m trying not to look directly at you as I say, you’re just not the guy
I tell you to swallow, and you look straight in my eyes
Bittersweet candy droplets, like I could die
In this dead world, there is nowhere left to hide
When my body is old and sick, will you lay by my bedside?

I don’t want to make this too long
I’m too smart, I know you won’t read it
No matter how much God knows you need it
If only for the chance that you might feel it

You know, you’re delusional
And I know I can be confusing
But you’re too jaded to find my ill-equipped candor amusing
You run your fingers through your hair like there’s salt in the air
And I try not to stare
You know, you’re delusional
And I know I can be confusing
But the gig is up, and I know that you’ve been using
In your tangled cobweb, I remain the bug that is losing

Not to make this too long
The film isn’t developed
The roses haven’t bloomed
I’m staring back at you, but it’s so empty in this room
I feel the walls enveloping me in dark, chaotic doom
And I can’t resist
You need to hear this
No matter how much your better self knows you need it
If only for the chance that you might feel it
The endurance of my love for all the havoc that you are
The way it covers me like starving, hot tar
When I was on the porch watching you pour gasoline on my car
And I thought to myself

He looks so beautiful from afar
I bet he’ll go to heaven, where the beautiful ones are
He’s not made of debris
He’s so strong and carefree
He’s butterflies and lightning trapped in a mason jar

And I’m falling in and out of love every day
And it feels so bizarre
All that I encompass and view myself as is his white dwarf star
Dead from the beginning
A stellar remnant in this regard
Without the nuclear coalescence, I am just scraping by

When I was on the porch watching you pour gasoline on my car
And I thought to myself
He’s so strong and carefree
He’s butterflies and lightning trapped in a mason jar
And I’m a black hole of a figurine
In this dead world, there is nowhere left to hide
When my body is old and sick, will you lay by my bedside?

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Poem: My boyfriends are always musicians

Poem: My boyfriends are always musicians

I want another musician boyfriend
In the wind, in the mountains that fumble over each other
Like blue ice cream, and you’re drinking the most sour lemonade
I remember being in the fifth grade
I remember when you and I were on the same page

You tell me I’m pretty
I say, let’s get out of this city
I want the thrill and the madness
Chicago winters when I was the baddest
And I kept thinking, I have this
I kept thinking, I have this
I kept-

I have nothing to talk about now that he stopped talking to himself
Turned the act around, got out of town
And he was gone like that
I wish I could say it was in the summer, but he said that he still loved her
And my aloe vera plant died like three times that week

My best friend thinks I’m weak
I can tell because I think she’s too afraid of getting closer to me
Which as a walking human charade I can see where there’s disinterest in the grand scheme of things
I knew it was in the library that I lost my opal ring
That was the day Rachel wore that blue shirt
She looked so good that it hurt
I’ve thought of every way this could go, and I’m just out of step
So if you asked me what I need, I’d say it’s out of my grasp
But I’m pretty on the inside
I don’t collapse like that
I run, and I fetch, but I don’t bring it back
I only execute what is carefully planned
I miss the warm days of playing around in the sand
I miss when you wrote songs about me with your little boy band
I miss you reaching for my hand

And if you asked me if I would use pretense to get to where I want to be
I would take that high jump
I would be out there too

But there are things to think forth to, like Russia and France
No last line
No valentine
No hopes this time

I’m renovating my life into something brand new
It’s the only thing that’ll motivate you
To depart from this sick, sad, bleached residue
All I think about is you
All I think about is you
All I think about is you
All I think about is you

Remember, standing on the balcony
Drinking Mountain Dew
I never considered falling out of love with you
They said when you break up, it’s just something you do

I must be screwed up beyond repair
He was having an affair
And all I could do was stare

It was almost like she was here, and I was there

No last line
No valentine
No hopes this time

All I think about is you
All I think about is you
All I think about is you
All I think about is you
And all I could do was stare

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Poem: She could’ve been

Cocaine kisses, send me off the edge into the abstract obscurity of my conception of time, space, life, youth, vigor, hate, and sour green apples

Cradle me
I’m an angel
Lying in a soft heaven encapsulated by aquamarine lullabies and the cries of a thousand little shadows
So hazy
Pretty baby
Little lady
Spiraling in clusters of neural cell bodies that extend axons down to their terminal buttons
I recognized her voice coming from outside my window
But she wasn’t talking to me
She wasn’t talking to me

Tiny clusters of dazzling diamonds
What, in your life, is priceless? Conceptually?
Sensually?
Horizontally?
I am a nicotinic receptor, please don’t bother me while I’m at work
It’s a little complicated, but I’m going to keep on going
It’s all I need to do – be brave, be strong, endure, go on
Lying on my pink plush bed staring at the ceiling fan
Circling and circling and circling and circling
Enzymes and substrates and catecholamines
I do my best work when I can’t be seen

Starships and amphetamines

God, I love your energy
It soothes me
Invigorates me
Calms me
Quiets me
Loves me

Cocaine causes your brain to sit in a bath of dopamine
I like to pour lavender-infused Epsom salts into the warm water and add bubbles because I’m a child at heart
And I’m trying to hold on and not break my own heart
But it’s hard
It’s so hard
I don’t know where to start

And you’re so far

You’re so far (we could have been as deep as the oceans)
And I think I’m okay
The mental image that I’ve created of you is slowly fading, and I’m returning to the reality, the vacancy
Encouraging normalcy
Doing pirouettes in my living room to French classical music
Tranquil lullabies
Cheap thrills
Hundred dollar bills
Poison in your pocket for the next martyr you’ll kill

Sit down at your desk, put your chin to your chest
Stretch your neck
Give feedback to the people you like in your life
Tell them how you’re doing
Ask them how they are
I’m overdosing in the bathtub from all this dreamy black tar
I’m racing a stranger 120 miles per hour in my fucked up classic car
They’ll say, she could’ve been a star

They’ll say, she could’ve been

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