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Elena Taylor Apr 2018
Little demon who sits in my soul,

You are not welcome anymore

For my heart is not

A room to play in.



I’m reclaiming the space above,

The attic in my mind.

A space you know well

Because

you’ve inhabited it

For some time.



You are no longer allowed

A front row seat

To my fears

and

my vulnerabilities.

You have taken advantage

Of that luxury.



Little demon,

Sitting pretty in pink.

You no longer have control

Over me.
Elena Taylor Apr 2018
She poked holes into paper
and held it to the sky
It had been so long
Since the stars had said their goodbyes.
She painted every blade of grass
A multitude of greens.
For her grey colored glasses
Kept colors unseen.

She had a way about her,
The girl in the grey colored glasses.
She mastered filling herself with laughter
So no one could see the disaster
That she hid deep within her.
The girl in the grey colored glasses,
Saw the world only in grey.
For her rose colored glasses
Had been taken away.

So if you have the chance to meet her,
Take her by the hand.
Tell her the quality of her life
isn’t determined by the color of a lense.
Take off her grey colored glasses,
Have her smash them into pieces
Then stick by her as her sadness decreases.

Whether you see through
Rose or grey colored glasses,
The colors have you fooled.
For life is not always rosy
Nor should it be dull in hue.
It’s when you balance the two together
That life becomes okay.
Elena Taylor Apr 2018
When a girl is born

She is given a box

Labeled

“Fit in here

Do not

overflow”



She carries

This box

Everywhere

She goes.



She grows

And

Grows.

Until her

Box can

Hold no

More.



When a girl

Becomes

A woman.

She realizes

Her box’s

True use.



A woman

Does

Just

As butterflies

Do.



All she needed

Was a

Little

Space to

Bloom
Written in honor of National Womens Day
Elena Taylor Mar 2018
You said to the moon and back, how was I supposed to know that was really the distance between us? “Forever” is just a word, and “always” is just a lie. You changed the notes to our love song, strung them into broken pieces of what we used to have. I want you to stay, but it kills me to see your face. Your stuff takes up all my space, the silence in it all echo’s through my room.
You once said we dug ourselves into a hole to hide from the world, the ones against us. Who knew you’d ditch me in the ditch we dug, with no way out. Fellas walk by, but you keep me preoccupied. Trying to find a way out without you.
I think back to the night it all ended. You ruined my heart, so in return, I ruined my rug and my liver. You dried out my eyes, I found nothing sadder than our ending, nothing made me cry. Finding my tears meant digging deep back into myself. Letting someone in gives them permission to hurt you. I vowed that night to never let that happen again. Tissues in one hand, and my bottle in the other.
Elena Taylor Mar 2018
I picked up the sand and poured it over my legs.
Sitting next to you watching the sunset was bitter sweet.
I chose the ocean, because I thought it would be easier if you were looking at something beautiful when I left you.
I never was that pretty when I cried.
You see the ocean and the sun look good together, but they can never really be together.
The sun looks like it melts into the sea. The colors mixing, touching, and then eventually disappearing together into the darkness.
It’s an optical illusion.
As close as they seem, they are actually so distant.
No matter how hard we try, we will never be close enough to be good together.
We are nice to look at, but once the sun sets, its just dark.
The waves hit against the rocks, sometimes becomes violent, it holds so much more than you can see.
In the darkness, the observers can’t see what’s happening. The charade is over.
Only the next morning it starts all over again.
I chose the ocean because it holds so many secrets from the world.
The sun is beautiful, and you my dear are gorgeous.
But we are from two different worlds, miles apart.
I think we need to stop fighting the distance, and just let it go.
Let the waves carry it away
Elena Taylor Mar 2018
Seeing photos of you still makes my heart sink,
Not because of what I used to have with you,
Not because our time is over, and we both have moved on.
My heart sinks, because I’m growing up.
Seeing you reminds me of younger self,
Shes someone I don’t see very often anymore.
I’m becoming who I am meant to be
Growing up, moving on, it’s scary.
I’m scared.
I feel alone.
Sometimes I don’t mind, but other times I need someone to hold me
Tell me who I’m becoming is strong, beautiful, that what I am feeling is right.
Someone to tell me everything will be all right.
My heart sinks.
I’ve lost the innocence,
What if my curiosity and imagination go with it?
I never make decisions with my heart anymore,
My brain controls me, I’m chained by its wants and needs.
No one ever told me growing older would feel this way
Does it have to be this way? It shouldn’t be this way
I wont let it be this way.
Elena Taylor Mar 2018
Life will always be a bit of a rocky boat ride. The waves crashing over you and the uneasiness of the ground.
Although the waves toss you around, you stay afloat.
It’s the buoys and the lighthouses that keep you on your path.
Watch out for the sirens and the sharks, they are the evil in the world and thrive on your failures.
You’ll meet people that will change your life forever, whether it’s just a smile they give you while passing you on the street, or those lifelong friendships you build.
It’s the relationships you have that can make the difference.
Love your parents because they built your boat in the first place.
Eventually, it will be time for you to set sail on your own, but through the people you know, and the lessons you’ve learned, you will be well equipped for the struggles ahead.
Sure there will be times when the waves are too rough, the rain is too cold, and your sails are ripped to shreds.
Just remember at the end of every storm the sun will come out, and you will come out stronger than before.
Life will always be a bit of a rocky boat ride, but if you can make it through the storm, you’ll be in for a beautiful surprise.
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