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Poem: On the balcony (Merry Christmas)

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Poem: On the balcony (Merry Christmas)

I thought about how you didn’t say Merry Christmas
Even though it’s my most favourite of holidays
I thought of all the rainy dates
The sombre, cold Saturdays
Square cross-sections of apple-green pyroxene
Hand over my mouth while I scream
The antagonism of adenosine by caffeine
The nights of unconditional pain
Nothing to lose, nothing to gain
I thought of you as my John Wayne
Only my devotion remained the same

Daffodils paint your iridescent smile
I always try to get you to stay for a longer while
I’m not who you’re looking for, but I’m trying
The roses I buy myself are perpetually dying
If you bought them for me, they’d stay alive
They’d put their hands on my shoulders when they’d come on by
I’d never have to come up with a reason why
When you’re faithful and in love
There’s no reason to lie

I nailed death decrepit, got it in centuries-old buildings
You throw away all the invitations to friends’ weddings
I’d love to meet your family
I’d love to meet your friends
I’d love to meet anybody that admires the time you spend
Fixing up daisies
Mowing the lawn
You softened my view of right and wrong
You made me too vague to quite belong

Falling out of love with someone you’ve loved for so long
Sounds an awful lot like an unfamiliar song

But I’m learning the chords
Your vinyl collection, of course
You want me to play housewife and do all your chores
But with my pale blonde hair you still manage to get bored
The hollowness in my eyes has become an eyesore
So when I look directly at you, you just choose to ignore
And I wait at the docks, my knees up to the shore
If I asked you for freedom, you couldn’t give me any more
Spoke to me like a virgin
Told the world I was a whore

I could leave tomorrow
You wouldn’t say goodbye
It was my absolute most favourite holiday
And you must have forgotten that brilliant thing you had to say
My friends keep saying this time I need to stay away
No more watering the garden
No more child-like play
Find me reminiscing in your spot in the doorway
Nostalgia too much to bear
Your petit-mal seizure stare
I’m not quite there
But I’m almost halfway

I molded you into a diamond
You decayed that way
Now you’re so lost in thought that you’re digging your own grave
I’m upset my soft face can’t bring you back
Been trying to determine what it is I lack
It’s so sad to see you so worn out like that
My words are so useless, coated in coal-black
You’re so sober when you drink your cognac
I keep thinking of this one hazy flashback

It’s you and me on the balcony
But this time you’re in love with me

I’m not who you’re looking for, but I’m trying
The roses I buy myself are perpetually dying
If you bought them for me, they’d stay alive
They’d put their hands on my shoulders when they’d come on by
I’d never have to come up with a reason why
When you’re faithful and in love
There’s no reason to lie

You only see black & white but I’m lilac
You only see in me all the things I lack
A heroin dream that begins and ends with black

I know I said forever, but I’m not coming back
I know I said forever, but I’m not coming back

It’s you and me on the balcony
But this time you’re in love with me
I know I said forever, but I’m not coming back
But this time you’re in love with me

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Poem: 3 in the morning (God loves you)

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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: My boyfriends are always musicians

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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: Lying in a field of daisies

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Poem: Lying in a field of daisies

It was Saturday; daisies and sweet sunshine
I bought myself kiwi-watermelon wine
Caught up to you right on time
After work you have a few hours to see me
I’m trying real hard to not tell you the truth about all of the things that are going on with me
If you knew, you’d flee
Though I do better when you’re gone
I never said that I was done
But I like holding your arm like this
Introduce me to your adorable little fish
That you have different names for, and varying relationships with
I almost died on the sixth
You were the last thing on my lips

Your apartment’s above a bakery so we wake up to the smell of cookies and muffins
You ask me something serious, I tell you I got nothing
I’m not made out the way you wanted
I can tell, my thoughts are haunted
I wonder if you’d mind if I just, disappeared
For a while
Long enough to write more poetry that isn’t about you
Long enough to find myself in ways more than pink and blue
Long enough to try to escape the physical body I feel chained and restrained to
Look, it’s going to rain
It’s like God saw me and noticed I’m in pain
I wish I could see my dad again

I looked through my tank playing cards, admiring that T-34
I found his old letters, so many pages I gripped, and I tore
I couldn’t stop myself
I wanted them off my shelf
I should have called for help
But I don’t know whether you are or you aren’t one of those boys that picks up the phone when a girl calls you in the middle of the work day
And to be honest I wasn’t ready to find out that way
So on my light pink bedspread I fell backwards and lay
The moon orchestrated this day
I have faith in the sun but not the stars
I love the different models of them high-up cars
I don’t really mind if all we go to are bars
Just know that here we are
In a place that’s
Silent
Quiet
Not meant for people that bring the noise

Lying in a field of daisies
For a young ballerina, I’ve never looked so poised
And I know by your expression that it makes you annoyed
Go to sleep, close your eyes, listen to the twirling fan noise

Lying in a field of daisies
My response to your behavior has got me annoyed
I’ll stay in a hotel tonight, I’ll pay the fee
Maybe when I get out, I’ll finally be free

Lying in a field of daisies


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Poem: Burnt ash & perfume

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Poem: Burnt ash & perfume

You told me that you wanted to read the poems that I end up not posting to my website
You said those are probably the best ones
I just thought you didn’t like my writing
Move my hair behind my right side
This is it
That’s all I have
There’s really no more of me
I sing too
When I’m blue
You swallow me

mailbox, letter boxes, post mail box

I bought the prettiest pink shower curtain
With ruffles on the bottom
Only a few days before my cat shred it to death
Which I thought was rather tasteful
Now it looks like someone got in a bad fight
I’m in for a fright
You call me, you ask to spend the night
Yeah right

I’m in here
Surrounded by black claws and thin ballerina dolls
That play eery slow classical sounds and spin around
I’m the director of this facility
I scan every body and send them either left or right
I don’t like what I do
It frightens me what is done
After the bodies go to the right
It’s not right

I’m attached to you
But I can easily remove myself
I learned by watching you

This is really all I have for you
It doesn’t get better
So when you are cold, and you put on my sweater

I hope the smell of burnt ash & rose perfume is gone

rose, flower, love

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