Tag: biographical

Poem: Femoral artery (fever dreams)

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Poem: Femoral artery (fever dreams)

I watch you when you’re bad
I take careful notes
I set them on fire and summon gentle ghosts
They won’t scare you or hurt you the most
Nothing like true love taken away, not even close

I’m sixteen in a few days, I’m trapped in this body
I want you to mimic a system like monoclonal antibodies
Feed the hunger
Burn the rage
Set flames to whom I accused you of being
Prove me wrong
Come as a surprise
I’m finding I don’t make the impression that I imply
Sunsets after jazz concerts on the lawn
I try to find stingrays in the ocean when I swim
I think if this life is a fight, then I’ll most likely win
But they’re doing a good job of telling God that I sinned

Like fever dreams
Like soft doeskin
That came from a being you shouldn’t have touched
I wonder at what point will it all be enough
Blew smoke in his face, he tried calling my bluff
I wake up strong, but I wouldn’t say I’m tough
My wrists are so small the cops use child handcuffs
I wish I was making all this stuff up

To live a romantic life is to surrender to passion
With the weather today, I would say it’s not in fashion
Love for me will never be everlasting

I want it to be
I desperately hope
But we always lose the ones we love the most
They hit your bare knees, the cascading blue waves
Make you stay up pacing around for days
I don’t have the time, and I’ve lost my own place
I was so far ahead
I was almost there
I thought I was close
I was almost there
I choked on my insides
I was almost there
I saw my femoral artery
Blood soaked my white underwear

Like fever dreams
Like soft doeskin
That you’ll always regret purchasing because your ex-girlfriend was a vegan and the way she wears pink ribbons in her ash blonde hair makes you go wild
You act like a child
And I wouldn’t even say your advantage was mild
Knock on my door
Stay a while
I’ll only be happy watching you char in the fire

I know the feeling
I know the daze
I know the brilliant, beautiful Autumn haze
I know Fridays spent alone and solitary Sundays
I’ll only respect you if you participate in the chase
And God, I love it when you try to plead your case
You lost the bet
The cops know you
You think you get me, but I don’t believe that’s true
You’re only with her because there’s nothing else to do

Playing with marbles on the carpet, so they don’t roll too far away
I don’t have the time
I’ve lost my own place
But I clean up nice and live my life with grace

You’re lucky I won’t let you see me face-to-face
You won’t forget my brutality for several days
It’s my milk white gentleness that you can’t replace
I used to tell you I love you, but now I’ll rephrase

The kind of girl you wish you had for the holidays
The kind of girl you wish you had for the holidays
The kind of girl you wish you had for the holidays
As vital to the body as acetylcholinesterase

It’s my resilient nature that will get me through this phase
I used to tell you I love you, but now I’ll rephrase

Lilac Dove

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

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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”

Poem: A hundred drops per second

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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

Nothing beautiful ever lasts

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Nothing beautiful ever lasts

(venom like frostbite on a Sunday morning)


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My gal pal and I were feeling the hot July mist as we dipped our carefully painted toes in the pool
Swaying our arms to make waves like hurricanes
Flowers blossomed
My best friend
She jokingly said that I’m holding out on love
Not letting anybody too close
Painful reminders of past ghosts
Motorcycles, some of those
I said I’m living like I’m practically comatose
I wake up, open the shades, want to close them back again and fall into a slumber so deep my manager starts calling since I didn’t show up for work
It’s just too much work
And I’m impatient
Stagnant in some ways
Although I am crisp, I say that in a daze
The sky turns ablaze
Hot fire surrounds us

She’s crying and her mascara drips down her rose cheeks
I don’t know what I did
But it’s always me doing something
I remind people of their painful pasts
I refresh their memory that nothing beautiful ever lasts
I put one in mind of the fact that every little time you think something’s good, something’s right
It never is
Your worries become his
And that’s hard to dismiss

I’m not evil
I think I’m not
But the last guy said he hopes my body will rot
I thought it was kind of funny, which sent him in shock
I told him again and again that I’m not quite his flavor
The poor boy, I was doing him a favor!
The January wind came to whisk me away
He locked the door, practically begged me to stay
But it wasn’t hard to walk away (search for new prey)
I’m like a ship that’s too in love with the waves
Goes the wrong way for days
Doesn’t realize there’s a dock waiting, that you don’t have to escape
My vision turns gold and then grey
Nothing beautiful stays
So I celebrate the decay
Am I better off that way?

Morning dew is my favourite
When roses blossom, I’m in heaven
I remember being young, timid, and seven
Pushing my fingers directly into thorns
Gave me a rush that went straight to my bones
I was so little! A young mind so awake
Until I started bleeding and I’d start to shake
Some people are poison, like the tinctures I make
I’m fake I’m fake I’m fake

For God’s sake (my sake and yours) 
Pass me a cider
White roses when you greet me
Try to make me smile
Soon we’ll be dead and no longer will you see me

So I celebrate the decay
Am I better off that way?



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    Poem: Fading, gracefully

    distantcaveLeave a comment

    Poem: Fading, gracefully

    My passion is in my work but sometimes it fades
    I dress up, I’m ready, to have the most perfect of days
    Something charcoal and black gets in my way

    A peaceful slumber, I’ve rested
    Breakfast is toast
    Licking jam off my fingers
    The scent of your cologne
    I have nothing to do today but write, write, write

    Born an academic
    I found my love on the field
    Pointing straight at my target– focus and press
    Down on the trigger, life’s a sweet mess
    Baby, we eventually do our best

    He said my name sounds expensive

    He said my name sounds expensive
    Like a luxurious bath
    Candles and Ella Fitzgerald in the back
    I’m curious about my own tastes
    I’m establishing a new state of rebuilding an identity that I lost when we broke off the engagement
    Led to a crisp stalemate
    And what it necessitates
    Is a return to sensuality and glamour
    Floral dresses because flowers are part of my soul even though I don’t believe in humanistic psychology
    However,
    I do like what the existentialists posed
    I’m no longer scared to see of what dust I am composed
    I stay asleep on such a heavy dose

    The rain falls like sugar into a small child’s fragile hands

    You shouldn’t be scared of me either
    When it rains I’m like in the garden of Eden
    You and me, we’re on the same page, something is even
    But when I’m alone
    I rip out the pages, shivering down to my bones
    I let the call ring then hang up the telephone
    No service in my castle, but I’m in my zone
    Wait for the beat to drop
    Babe you’re acting so nonchalant
    It’s okay, it’s enough, it’s time to stop
    The beautiful rainfall begins to drop
    It shimmers
    Across my spine

    Stick out my tongue because rain tastes heavy
    Move my arms up like I’m soaking already
    Stick out my tongue because rain tastes heavy
    Move my arms down like I’m dead already

    Move my arms down like I’m dead already

    Nothing like Chicago rainfall


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