This place where I exist
I’m afraid to break it
A delicate exaltation
An underserved reprieve
From thoughts too heavy
Too ugly, too vast
Too cumbersome
For someone like me
For anyone
To carry
This place where I exist
Is rare
Is foreign
Is exceptional.
This is a place
That I have designed
My mind
My heart
My soul
A fragile place.
A magical place.
A safe place.
-Elle
#poetryfromthenotpoet
Black cotton
Grows from my head
A gravity defying halo
Around my skull
It deceives you
Springy and wild
Commanding attention
But in reality
So tender, so delicate
Black cotton
Grows from my head
Black cotton
Mimics my heart
-Elle
#poetryfromthenotpoet
Cerebral
I like that word
When I close my eyes
Satellites orbit
Around my head
Tiny holograms
Of everyone
I’ve ever known
Dance on them
Vying for my attention
I make time
For each of them
Not sure how
But I do
I never forget
My mind
My heart
A universe
Expanding
Infinitely.
-Elle
#poetryfromthenotpoet
I don’t fit well
Been here a while but
I don’t fit well
Thought I’d settle
Blend in
But
This place is too small
Your love is too big
So honest and so deep
Too clean
For a mess like me
There’s nowhere to hide
I’m exposed
I’m uncomfortable
I don’t fit well
We can’t force this
Love
Been here a while but
I don’t fit well…
We don’t fit well.
-Elle
#poetryfromthenotpoet
Fun fact: I’ve never had to express feelings like the one in this poem. Sad fact: I’ve been on the receiving end a time or two or three. Interesting fact: all of those times (some major relationships, some sweet flings that were never meant to be), I’ve had to initiate the conversation that would ultimately result in me getting hurt because I could tell things weren’t right/the same… in fact, that’s a poem I need to work on haha
She.
An amalgam of broken pieces
Shoved and glued back together.
It’s not quite right
Something’s off.
All cracks and crevices
And missing bits…
But this is no tragedy.
She
Has more surface area for love.
More room to connect
Fluent in empathy
A master of compassion
So much taken.
So much more to give.
She.
A humble soul
Resilient and vulnerable
Present and feeling
Scarred and lovely
A treasure not to look at,
But instead one to see.
She.
-Elle
#poetryfromthenotpoet
To all of the people I’ve taken the time to look at, but never really saw.
There’s this chasm
Right down the middle
Of the human experience.
We are
Oxymorons
Personified.
Delicacy and ferocity.
Pride and humility.
Intelligence and ignorance.
All encased
Within a meaningless shell
The divide,
It makes us vulnerable.
The divide,
It makes us strong.
Beautiful creatures,
We are.
…and ugly, too.
Fascinatingly mundane.
Collectively unique.
-Elle
#poetryfromthenotpoet
Color me yellow
Marigolds and sunshine
Butter me up, Babe
Make me laugh
That ugly laugh
That real one
You know…
Too much teeth, too much gums
A parade of bumblebees
Spilling from my mouth
Spell out my name
With those little golden letters
Like the ones
On the spine
Of my favorite books
I wanna twinkle
Bright, like a star
Wild, like a firecracker
Wrap me up, Honey
Like a lemon Starburst
They’re the best ones
#changemymind
Oh and don’t forget
Snag some bananas
While you’re out
You know I won’t eat ‘em
But they’ll look fancy
In that amber fruit bowl
You bought for me
Way out
In Amarillo.
-Elle
#Poetryfromthenotpoet Have I mentioned that I supposed to be writing a novel?
Humble me,
Life.
I’m way too high
I’m far too happy.
Shake me up,
Cut me down.
I’m thriving, see
Light on my feet
Cheeky grin.
I feel good
Too good.
Do your thing.
Put me in check.
Break my heart.
Crush my spirit.
Remind me.
To live is to suffer.
Life,
Remind me.
Don’t let me get too far
Don’t let me get used to this.
Do it now.
If you wait too long
I might not survive the fall.
Do it now,
Life.
Humble me.
-Elle
#Poetryfromthenotpoet
Friends! It’s been a minute! I was going through it majorly last night time I posted. Guess what? Still am. Know what else? Still breathing. 😉 Also, this poem sounds kind of dark, but it doesn’t feel that way. I do believe we all need to be humbled now and then… perhaps not at the spirit crushing level though. This is written from that too-good-to-be-true perspective. You know, when everything is going so right that you get kind of nervous? I haven’t been there in while! I’m definitely on the recently humbled side of things, but they say it’s a roller coaster, right?
I wonder
If you’ll love me
When I’m dead.
I know death is ugly
In a physical sense
But I always imagined
That as your flesh
Returns to the earth
All the pretty things
All the beautiful bits
That were buried
Deep down
And scattered about…
I always thought
That surely
They leak out
Seep into the mud…
Make sweet flowers bud
You love flowers
Yeah.
I bet
You’ll love me
When I’m dead.
-Elle
#Poetryfromthenotpoet
Demons fly around your skull
Whispering evil things
You’re worthless.
You don’t belong here.
You fight them valiantly
With prayers and kind thoughts
But they’re relentless
They tell you crazy lies
You know you shouldn’t believe
But they never tire
They never stop
They smell your tiniest weakness
A little crack in your exterior,
They dig in
And rot your insides
Like a cavity.
No dentist, no doctor
Can fix this
Their poison is sticky and foul
It mutates your soul
You’re on the edge
Of an infinite black hole
Careful, Love
Careful.
-Elle
#Poetryfromthenotpoet
