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: 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

Poem: James Davies

When I threw away the dying white roses you bought for me
I almost cried myself to death
When I touched the petals
(They were so soft)
Like me
Untouched
Delicate
You robbed me of my own sanity
And it got so fucked I broke away from reality

You robbed me of my own sanity

Take your medication, baby, please don’t stop
Taking your medication
I care so much for you that my heart keeps breaking
Because you’re not next to me in bed and I can’t fall asleep because I’m shaking
I’m so afraid of you
But I’m more afraid of what I’m going to do without you
Do you have any idea how much I love you?

Sweet river beds
I leaned against your car smoking like I’m from Tennessee
And you weren’t even man enough to comfort me
You like to call it “enabling”
But a girl crying over you will only stop crying when you touch her
Hold her like it’s your last day alive
And you know the last memories are the memories we keep
But all I can think of is you screaming at me
You were screaming at me
But you said you were in love with me

You robbed me of my own sanity
But it was only because I was too insane to see
You weren’t good for me
You weren’t good for me
James Davies
You were never my safety

I’m so helpless, it’s scary

Though I know Monday morning I’ll wake up
Sipping my L-theanine-filled green tea in my Moscow teacup
I won’t text you
Won’t say wassup
Because you and I are no longer
Babe, I hope you take a seat and ponder

How weak you made me

Tears cover my cheekbones
I can barely read these pages
Felt I’d love you for ages
But you tested my patience

How weak you made me
This is what became of me

How weak you made me

Poem: Elysian space dust IPA






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Peony photograph by Elle ©

Poem: Fading, gracefully

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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