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)

You agree to receive email communication from us by submitting this form and understand that your contact information will be stored with us.

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

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: Lilac amphetamines (drug kings)

Poem: Lilac amphetamines (drug kings)

You and me in a state of departure / You and me in a state of departure / You and me in a state of departure / Y o u a n d m e i n a s t a t e o f d e p a r t u r e

I looked past the rainfall at the marble, right back at me, it gleamed
Our last fight in the kitchen, you so quickly got so mean!
You put your head in your hands
I trusted you to a fault
How come I never learn, that like fire you burn
And whatever respect is, I must be unaware of how it’s earned
Your speeches don’t follow rational thought
And I tell you each time, but you must have forgot
I love you a lot
I fucking love you a lot

The outdoors are crisp, you have chapstick on your lips
You’re doing me a favor, your hand ’round my hip
Baby, I can barely feel it
Come closer to me
I’m looking straight at you, but it’s always a different man that I see
I try so hard to look pretty
For you, always you
Never another
But you’re so paranoid, why do I even bother!
This scorching August heat, it’s getting hotter and hotter
And you’re throwing a fit – you look like a toddler
You said there’s a girl – you said that you’ll call her
I wonder what lies you tell to our holy father
You can pick up the tab
I’ll ride home in a cab
Call me when date night to you isn’t a drag
(Smoke like a chimney to that)

And you’re throwing a fit– you look like a toddler

At night, you space out; your glare is of steel
You don’t share the misty-eyed tenderness I feel
You’re a tiger, I’m a fly
Broken wing or two
I lay softly beside you
Afraid to touch you because I’m awfully shy
For my form I’m quite polished- I come in blue, white, and black
Switch the topic to us and that’s when you pull back
We’re selling amphetamines, I dye them lilac

Anything to get the kids off fentanyl
But they’ll still have heart attacks until
I tell the room I have the training, I know what to do
But then all of a sudden they rely upon you
Don’t sign up to dine on what you can’t chew
Strangers remain strangers, the days change like a ticking clock
Put the body in the bag, fuck I almost forgot
We didn’t make too much money, but it was worth a shot

I lay softly beside you
I’m so, so afraid
And when I ask you to stick to me
Your mind’s already been made

I’m too small for you to love
Broken wing or two
Before you fall right asleep
Realize I fucking love you

Only you
I fucking love you

Nothing beautiful ever lasts

Nothing beautiful ever lasts

(venom like frostbite on a Sunday morning)


Scroll

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?



Instagram


Icon-rss


Envelope


Soundcloud


Tiktok






    Poem: White mustang, no cigarettes

    Poem: White mustang, no cigarettes

    Out of all my vices
    Got no more cigarettes
    Marriage is a stretch, it’s far-fetched
    A violent vehemence
    That I got caught in because he said I was one of his regrets
    One of his regrets
    I’d protest to that
    Absence of evidence

    I’m a humble girl, I’m real cool
    Catch me doing laps in the swimming pool
    I objectify God; in all his heavens I rule
    I’m not what you’re used to
    But as strange as this fancy, rugged life turns out to be
    I have a strange sense I won’t make it past thirty
    What’s not to be is not meant to be
    Coca Cola and vanilla ice cream in the evenings
    Different rituals for different seasons
    A stray cat, got loose, we’ll make it even
    I lay back, underneath the sun, I’m gleaming
    Strangers make strange choices for strange reasons

    ♥ Strangers make strange choices for strange reasons ♥

    ♥ I’m bored to death and my glamour is fading ♥

    I’m bored to death and my glamour is fading
    With every cheap trick you try
    I glance out the window, months just fly by
    My ego’s even on the same page, telling me to get rid of you
    It’s like taking out the trash
    One long-winded heroin crash
    I pour myself a warm bath
    Collapse
    Small movements
    Trembling
    Hands around my knees, hold them close to me
    Like when I held your hand, and my heart felt safe
    You were looking real nice for what was a blind date
    Cigarettes into ash, swear I thought it was fate
    The way your fingers interlaced my wire front gate
    Never over five minutes late

    I’m made of caramel syrup & mocha drizzle
    You taste it, you want more, I only give you a little
    I’m fairly humble in my opinion
    You’ll be home any minute
    And I can’t wait until you get home and see my stuff is all packed
    I’m going back to the city where we stayed on track
    Listening to White Mustang on replay, back to back
    Lana’s the only one to bring me joy
    I know you’re starting to sweat, you’re feeling paranoid
    It previously hadn’t occured to you that I’m someone you enjoy
    The glisten on the shine of my watermelon nail polish
    The sparkles of pink and white of my carefully creased eye shadow
    I’m not meant for this household
    Realistically it should only occupy one man
    Quite frankly I don’t care if you do or you do not understand
    We’re crumbling like an avalanche
    I’m coughing up sand

    I stayed in your company because God, I love snow
    I love champagne and wearing conservative dresses to the company engagements you’d invite me too
    ’till one day I caught your gaze, you looked oh so blue
    Like the fakeness of it all finally got through to you
    You realized you weren’t capable of loving a doll like me
    Little bumble bee
    Awfully cruel, brutal honesty

    Out of all my vices
    Got no cigarettes
    I remember when you said I would become your favourite regret
    You used to say I was heaven-sent
    You remember that agreement we made behind a peach sunset?
    First one to leave gets custody

    I’m packed
    I’m through
    I give you a note
    “First one to leave gets custody”


    Instagram


    Tiktok


    Soundcloud


    WordPress


    Rss