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: Too trusting

Poem: Too trusting

I stay wondering
If my father was watching over me, how could he steer me into your direction
It must be a fault of his
Perhaps some way of showing me I’m smarter than this
Crawling back to your pink lips
The detriment of this miss

I keep thinking to myself
Why would, knowing the things that I know, I go back to you
Sleepless nights, catering to my deepest thoughts that are blue
Swimming in technicolor sound waves, I reimburse
The fact that you and I are too much alike in the ways we run towards the hills
On the yard looking through bills
I can’t pay these days

Your teenage bedroom that in your 30s you find yourself back in
I’m in the desert, no cell reception
Came here to calm my mind but the heat has me in a frenzy
I stay wondering
If my father was watching over me
Would he be mad the way I play this game
Is he up there, practically screaming my name
Telling me to not go this way again

The sea meets my cold feet at the shore
I’m almost certain that at this point I shouldn’t be in love anymore
I hear screaming in the background but it’s coming from my mind
I hear screaming in the background and it’s something scary, I find
I take the coarse sand, make a castle, and I start wondering how
It’s been almost three years and we’re not engaged somehow
The detriment, I’ve found

When I get to the city I check my phone, 6 missed calls from you
No voicemails
You get to this place where you lose your mind and don’t know what to do
How come you don’t believe I’ll swallow you
I’m trained for it
Been a bad girl my whole life
I hear your carefully colluded sighs
They make my brain melt, like four hundred degrees
Blonde hair blowing in the breeze
Almost melting underneath

If my father was watching over me
All of the hell you brought to me, he would tell me
If my father was watching over me
I conclude he must not be
Running in your direction was all me

You swallow me
Because I’m too trusting
You swallow me
Because I’m too trusting


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