Tag: poetry about happiness

Poem: Calamine pink (bored)

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Poem: Calamine pink (bored)

Maybe I was made in hell
The way I’m living is how I can tell

A lullaby of daffodils
You hold the camera and tell me to hold still
I’m like a melting candle, the way I’m built
Like Saturday night’s florals, I begin to wilt
Loose edges
Sharp corners
Haha, of course – you did it on purpose
You know, you’re so good at making me nervous
You open the window, but you shut the curtains
I can’t come too close because I will never be certain
If it’s you, the recent news is very concerning
I love to know everything about you, it’s my lust for learning
It’s doing me damage
I’m picking up patterns
I found a loose screw and some nails under the mattress
I have this beautiful velvet dress that’s strapless
But I’ve been gradually weakened, my violence is sapless
And him and his coffee is quite the distraction
Though I’m perilously stuck in perpetual subtraction

Doesn’t buy me roses
No visible action
It’s doing me damage
I’m picking up patterns

I have ten thousand things to tell you
But instead I asked for flowers
You, not so permissive
You aggressively declined
I dreamed of blush-coloured roses, they were just divine
Heaven sent on a plate, a black gun & red wine
I was just wondering if maybe next time…
I could have a guarantee for a cute little valentine
Yeah, sure, that works, he can show up at nine

I’ll look so perfect
I’ll smell of jasmine & pine
I’ve made a plan for our date, it’s a rough outline
I’ll fix up my hair, I’ll trim my waistline
For the misery you put me through, I’ll need an anodyne
I’ll paint my bedroom walls the carbonate powder of calamine
I’m not doing my best, I’m hardly even trying

Lazy afternoons in the pool when it’s forty degrees
I fall all the time, I have wounds on my knees
You’ve never said sorry, you rarely said please
Is it love, or is it the amphetamines?
Stop getting so mad
I’m only in my twenties
But I know the best stones are found at the cemeteries
And I know the absolute best are freshly grown blueberries
When you scream at me, I close my eyes because it’s scary
I think “happy thoughts,” I picture us married
But I keep thinking ’bout how pretty I’ll look when I’m buried

I wanted to be your only
You can’t handle being worried
I’d come for you
Never hesitate to hurry

It’s two in the morning
I’ve made tea for myself
I wear long faux lashes ’cause it’s good for my health
I’m little Team Captain, everything I do is the best
I’m losing my grip, I think I’m failing this test
When you’ve broken everything, what is there left?
They think I’m in a castle, I consider this a mess
Do me a favour and be my guest
When you find out what I’ve done,
Don’t think more – think less
Envisage
Dream about
The thrills the little boys and girls scream about
She forced herself to think of how he must be feeling
She forced herself to think of how he must be feeling
She forced herself to think of how he must be feeling

Girls never get complimented anymore
The boys just presume they’ll get bored
It’s a mistake they’re all making, that I’m sure
But I’m only one person, can I count as more?

She forced herself to think of how he must be feeling
She forced herself to think of how he must be feeling
She forced herself to think of how he must be feeling

Drowned in insecurity because it seemed like disposition
When you really want to die, you make it your mission

The boys just presume they’ll get bored

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Poem: 3 in the morning (God loves you)

distantcaveLeave a comment

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: Surface tension (poolside dreams)

distantcaveLeave a comment

I saw the skinniest girls at the pool today
They were all bone, with graceful flat stomachs
I started to hate myself again
And I considered if
Maybe I was going too far
Maybe they have scars to hide too
But I traced their gentle bodies with my disturbing eyes
And I couldn’t find a somber disguise
Or any evidence that they hate themselves too

Maybe I didn’t look deep enough
What’s on the surface conceals what’s underneath

I toss and turn wildly in my bedsheets
And maybe the spaces of my ribs and the lights in-between
No longer shine, no longer gleam
I look dirty even when I’m entirely clean
I try to smile, but I can’t hold back that I’m so, so mean

They splashed each other while in the water
I knew if I smiled I’d only bother
But maybe they were growing sick of each other
At that point, I’d be a newfound lover
But when it rains it decays what’s left of me
I only feel blissful when I’m swimming in the sea (I feel like it’s a part of me)
I am opalescent in matters of blue
Your favourite shades of Hunter green
Writing poetry with a ruptured spleen
I miss being a fragile and innocent young teen
Didn’t stop you from touching me

Didn’t stop you from touching me
You claimed that you were teaching me
But my skin turned dark like you were leaching me
I’d have the strongest, most bizarre of nightmares
Wake up sweating, alone, and scared
A modest, timid girl
Too small to be bared
You dragged my body up the crystallized stairs

What’s on the surface conceals what’s underneath
When the gun started firing, the bed I hid beneath
Is it always as rosy as the daydream makes it seem?
My God, being dead sounds so fucking serene

My God, being dead sounds so fucking serene

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