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7.6k · Jul 2018
Debilitating Heartache
Elizabeth Zenk Jul 2018
Wistful tears melt down my cheeks.
Nostalgic of our time together.
I kept myself together for a year, and now without the pitiful distractions, I have to look at myself, alone.
Debilitating heartache
Bleakening one’s self.
Pining to both relive and forget the past.
Everything is still so crystal clear,
so picturesque in nature.
The smells, the sights, the feelings.
How could I have let it slip away from me like that?
Did he ever speak of me?
Ever talk about me?
Or did he just forget the joyous days we spent together under the heat of moment’s madness?
Am I the only one homesick for not my house, but for the person that broke me?
My lip twitches as sentimental recollections start to overflow and spill, creating a puddle of emptiness, longing, and heartbreak.
Watching the clock tick down seconds I've wasted
waiting for you.
4.3k · Nov 2018
i have lost control
Elizabeth Zenk Nov 2018
control is a rich red hue,
control is warm, and deep.
it’s a destructive power,
and a stinging force.
a delicate line
between pain and serenity.

control is a rich red hue,
control tastes metallic.
like a cog in a machine,
and it comes around like clockwork.
a jagged dash
between insanity and knowledge

control is a rich red hue,
control melts like wax.
it evaporates within seconds,
and it dries within moments.
a recalcitrant scratch
between delusion and control
control is the sand dunes left behind once the red lakes dry up.
3.3k · Jul 2018
Crying Passenger.
Elizabeth Zenk Jul 2018
A tightness in my lungs pulls me under in a spell of forced muteness.
I slide my view up out of the rattling car.
The starry sky lighting up my irises and dazzling my brain.
Meanwhile the glops of tears forming in my eye drag the streetlights across my visible world.
Light torn away from its source
for only me.
Me, a crying passenger.
2.4k · Jul 2018
Elizabeth Zenk Jul 2018
As a slob, I see no reason to pick up my own messes.
I’d rather just sit amongst my problems
allowing them to marinate
in a puddle of negativity and self-hatred.
I’m such a pathetic slob.
A mess.
A disgusting freak just
bathing in my own
filth and *******.
Decaying along with
my grime and trash.
2.1k · Jun 2018
Anxiety and Trauma
Elizabeth Zenk Jun 2018
Once were two young maidens who both wore smiles,
but they were sadly separated.
Years later they became friends once again, but life had shaped their names.
Anxiety and Trauma both very much alike.
Anxiety bit her nails and Trauma did as well.
Trauma rocked back and forth, and Anxiety did too.
Over time they both dropped subtle hints saying they were not okay.
Anxiety went to therapy, and so did Trauma.
Trauma had a breakdown, Anxiety also did.
The difference lays within their fears.

"I'm so very terrified of the future..." Anxiety began, "You get it though, right?"

Trauma shrugged, "I guess I do," she paused, "but it's the past that makes me break."

The two girls looked at each other, realizing they knew nothing about one another.
In regards to my friend who is so similar to me, but with such a different past, and future.
2.1k · Jul 2018
i < u
Elizabeth Zenk Jul 2018
If I try and let go of you
I'll get hurt in the progress
because without you
I feel like I'm worthless
completely worthless
I am less than you. You are greater than me.
and everybody
else knows it
1.7k · Nov 2018
Elizabeth Zenk Nov 2018
on the chessboard of life,
i am no more than a ****.
a fruitless tree in an astoundingly vast orchid.
a candle that lacks a wick, a flame that never flickers.
a hypothetical being without a purpose or plan.
the hypocritical brute, who is fattened on self-grandeur and sick off narcissistic thoughts.
in the dictionary of life
i am no more than a punctuation mark,
a mere dot on a piece of paper,
trying to clarify the stew of words, flung together by an equally trifling author.
i am nothing
1.3k · Oct 2018
i am a thorn
Elizabeth Zenk Oct 2018
I am a thorn.
A *****.
You’ve mistaken me for the beautiful rose, that spreds solar flare petals.
You’ve tried to pick the stupendous flower, but you’re fingers sink into the sharp thorns.
I taste your metallic blood, and watch as I hurt you.
I’m a thorn.
I am no rose
I am no beauty
I am sharp
and I am bitter
1.2k · Jan 27
i was born me
If I was supposed to
be defined by grades on
a paper, or by words in
a dictionary

I wouldn’t have
been born human.

If I was supposed to
be confined by margins
on an essay, or by stars
on a flag.

I wouldn’t have
the ability to create.

If I was supposed to
be defined by hatred
to my name or by my
disgraceful past.

I wouldn’t have
been born me.
1.1k · Jun 2018
Physical Emotions
Elizabeth Zenk Jun 2018
You’d never understand the emotions
of such a pitiful being,
but you know what's its like to injured.
Shaking body
Cold acid boiling at my skin
Words branded into my horrid flesh
Putrid bile sloshing inside my stomach
Knife-like stings shooting through my fingertips
Icy cold numbness throughout my limbs
Pigment in my face turning ghostly pale
A hollow pit where my intestines should be
Rapid heartbeats, and quick breathing
Fatigue at the thought of living
Dizzy and disoriented
Wanting to sleep forever
Wanting to wake up from this nightmare
1.1k · Jun 2018
her truth
Elizabeth Zenk Jun 2018
searching for her truth.
forgotten facts emerged.
more questions arise.
lost in time and space.
will she ever know what’s true?
elizabeth zenk.
Two Haikus about all I know,
looking for the truth I'll never find.
924 · Jul 2018
prideful waters
Elizabeth Zenk Jul 2018
Trying to tread water in a tsunami.
Being swept under with the furious currents.
So deep down in a neverending trench.
I take a deep breath.
Inhaling the salty waters.
Letting it fill and
draw blood to my
Drowning in my own pride, and hope.
The sloshing of water becoming a gentle whisper as the lights fade out.
922 · Oct 2018
gorgeous death
Elizabeth Zenk Oct 2018
A monotonous sky, coupled with scarce dainty raindrops.
The breeze that flicks my hair behind my shoulders with a grace I couldn’t replicate.
A singular sun stained leaf flutters to the ground.
It’s marigold hue stands brilliantly against the road below.
The Earth is now stained with the sweet reminder that everyone will either leave or die.
the death of someone you never truly knew,
is enough to make you wonder,
will my death be like this?
868 · Nov 2018
the tombstone’s worth
Elizabeth Zenk Nov 2018
the tombstone.
the shallow marker of death.
a block of stone that calls itself meaningful.
a pitiful rock that lays above the corpses of the long forgotten.
tombstones are a worthless waste of space,
only left because respect is desired long after death.
764 · Jan 30
goals of gold
Why make goals of gold
and grandeur and fame.

When we all live to die in
flesh and bone.
we live to die
gold or nothing.
759 · Jul 2018
Elizabeth Zenk Jul 2018
I just get
really sad and
unmotivated for
or months.
You just never
seemed to notice,
so I kept quiet
thinking you
just didn’t
a bombshell I’m too worried to drop.
753 · Oct 2018
Elizabeth Zenk Oct 2018
if the sun chose not to rise,
would you blame the stars because they continue shining?
Or would you blame the world because it continues spinning.
746 · May 2018
i'm sorry
Elizabeth Zenk May 2018
i am truly sorry
i’m sorry I changed
i’m sorry i didn’t
i’m sorry i don’T always think
i’m sorry i’m dramatic
i’m sorry we never talk
i’m sorry foR complaining
i’m sorry for the time i wasted
i’m sorry I’m fake
i’m sorry i can’t shut up
i’m sorry i nevEr want to hang out
i’m sorry i scared away your friends
i’m sorry i try too hard
i’m sorry i Don’t try at all
i’m sorry
can't you sEe
i hate myseLf too
i'd say Probably more
701 · Sep 2018
Elizabeth Zenk Sep 2018
Downing glasses of boiling hot milk.
That must be why they are passed out.
Ignore the yelling that sprints through my innocent ears.
Hug your stuffed rabbit,
and go to bed.
Let the words escape through your head.
Their shouts and screams will manifest in your dreams.
There is no monster in your closet,
instead, the monster lives in your heart
it will tear everything apart.
Leaving you with a ragged blue bunny,
a stack of money,
and a plan to flee from this place.
687 · Aug 2018
Elizabeth Zenk Aug 2018
The lukewarm wind licks my hair as I sit in my open windowsill.
The humid air clings to my neck as I stare at the field before me.
I take in a sharp breath and look at my dangling legs.
I begin a conversation.
One I knew I needed to have.
. . .
He's gone.
He doesn't think about you.
He's moved on.
You'll never see him again, so might as well stop praying he will appear.
You place squirming leeches upon your arm, so you don't feel so alone.
Each one draining more and more out of you, and sometimes I wonder if you can even remember how it felt to not be dependent on those who don't care about you.
Pallor infects your face.
You're feeling lightheaded.
You've become irrational.
You feast upon the corpse of blooming affection.
Still inhaling the aroma of wilted petals.
High off the fragrance of dead daffodils,
Seeds that never have the chance sprout.
It's over, you need to find more fertile land.
You are keeping those leeches there.
I know it's difficult.
But, in time I know you'll be able to pry this large blood-thirsty leech off your forearm.
When you regain enough strength to stand alone, you can look around and see there are green parts of every pasture. You just need to look.
. . .
The cirrostratus waves roll across the large gradient above me.
I see a doe and fawn searching for greener grass, just like me.
I look at my arms.
I'll try my best.
Talking to myself, feeling the cold breeze, trying to move on.
686 · Nov 2018
dripping gasoline
Elizabeth Zenk Nov 2018
the drip drip drop
of my leaking love
the tune of emptying emotions.
the longing in my heart,
the lonely in my chest,
spilling into a solemn lake beneath me.
like gasoline, it sits cool,
seems to
but as soon as that puddle sparks
i can feel myself burning ablaze.
the drip drip drop
of my melting, burning love
the cackle of a lost battle.
the cackle
the crackle
of a fierce raging fire
646 · Nov 2018
Elizabeth Zenk Nov 2018
out of all the beautiful, vibrant, vivid colors
i am a bland, dull, uninspired hue
between the words in a book,
withered, dehydration grass,
or the color of a summer hare.
however, i’ve been told that i was once creative,
rain twisted oil spilled on cement,
poppies in a mid-afternoon sun,
or the tone of a summer goldfinch.
i wonder if it was the sun’s rays that desaturated my existence
i am the product of years worth of desaturation.
642 · Nov 2018
tangerine sunset
Elizabeth Zenk Nov 2018
the cream-colored sky
mixing with tangerine essence
a circular fire flickers at the bottom of a darkening horizon
mellow gusts twirl the earth’s luscious fibers
the tang of serenity fills the heavens
whilst the shadowy darkness emerges, ready to swallow the land whole.
I marvel at the wonder of these tangerine sunsets
611 · Aug 2018
He’s gone.
Elizabeth Zenk Aug 2018
I sit in front of my fractured mirror,
my eyes dripping like raindrops from the canopy above.
I didn’t want to know
Everything crumbles and my heart begins to *****.
I missed my chance.
To see and memorize the niceties of your stunning mind.
I missed your face, and your words, and your grace.
I watched as it all fell apart, my vision blurring and slurring
My teeth chattering, my fist pounding.
Deja vu I guess.
Snail trails caused by sorrow streak across my face.
My hands shake with confusion
I thought we were over him.
But she told me what you said.
She said you told them you missed me, and you fell in love last year.
Now I’m back to where we started.  
I love you
I miss you
You’re gone
I wrote this with fuzzy eyes covered by saddness.
It’s nothing but pure emotion.
581 · Oct 2018
Elizabeth Zenk Oct 2018
Our lives are like boats.
Everyone is crafted differently.
You can be built perfectly.
Have everything be in check.
And still be weighed down by anchors nobody can see.
Nobody can see you
570 · Oct 2018
dizzier and dizzier
Elizabeth Zenk Oct 2018
her body was a prison, she could not escape from.
a life sentence of hideousness.
each mark on her body perpetuating her to
spin and whirl
and dizzier and dizzier and dizzier she got.
even though she was sickened by this feeling,
at least she couldn't focus on the all things she hated about herself.
at least nausea distracted her from her hideous face.
Elizabeth Zenk Oct 2018
A lay in a soft, comfortable bed.
My navy irises look at my responsibilities.
I drift upon at my goals.
My motivation is a blooming flower. That changes with time.
Blooming and budding and retreating.
The magnificent petals would always arrive though. They’d beam with such splendor and grace.
Now, the carnations, pansies, and peonies have lost their shine.
They’ve become desaturated and plain.
A pile of decaying petals below a sickly stem.
My motivation is dead.
I’ll just sit here amongst the vile plants and weeds that remain and watch as people tend to their gardens of hope.
My poetry is bad,
my hope is gone,
what is this all for?
546 · Sep 2018
A Rabbit’s Loyalty
Elizabeth Zenk Sep 2018
The boiling, bubbling, fizzling rage
That has learned to hold me tight
My face tingles with the feeling of ignominy.
I’m embarrassed I’m still attached to you.
From person to person you can’t look away.
Your eyes wander astray.
And as I catch you forgetting, my hands begin to shake.  
If you missed me you wouldn’t forget me.
I’d know because of the way the grass blows, howling in horror.
Yearning for you,
to love me.
But you can’t teach a rabbit to be loyal, that is just what you are.
From girl to girl shifting personalities.
Becoming what they want the most, but little do you know.
Little do you know.
All I want
is for you
to love me
"He's gone.
You need to get over him, dear.
I know."
I mumble to myself
465 · Jul 2018
Elizabeth Zenk Jul 2018
Small bumps speckle my body
and I will pick
and pick
and pick
at them until I know for sure
the sludge,
the growths,
and the imperfections
are no more than scabs and dried blood.
At least then I can tell you I got these spots from battling.
Speckled I’m the remince of insecurity
401 · Nov 2018
romantic fuzz
Elizabeth Zenk Nov 2018
Romantic fuzz.
In the aching void that washes through my brain.
Incomprehensible feelings,
that mess with my mind.
***** with my relationships.
And drown out the clarity.
If only I could pull it all together,
and make out what the static buzzing is trying to tell me.
the gritty hum of my frantic mind
tells me what to say
394 · Nov 2018
Elizabeth Zenk Nov 2018
In the dark lay creatures.
They are neither good nor bad.
They lie dormant for day, weeks, months, years just watching.
And that is how they will stay unless you dare to close your eyes.

They’ll drag you away,
gut you,
and hang your remains to dry.
They will gouge your eyes,
smash your skull,
and break your bones.
They get intoxicated by your screams of agony,
high off your pain,
and drunk on your anguish

In the dark lay creatures.
They are neither good nor bad.

Their name?
364 · Aug 2018
Elizabeth Zenk Aug 2018
Was all the agony worth this splash of interaction we get?
The lonely?
The anger?
The sadness?
Was it worth it?
The hours my eyes stared at a ticking clock whilst waiting for you too show up?
The terrible misery that burns in my fists?
Was it worth it?
I’ve waited a year just to see your face, and this is what I get?
Conflicting emotions that battle for hours?
Is it wrong that I’m mad at you?
Wrong that you wasted everything I have?
You still care about her more than you care about me?
Was it worth it?

It was worth it.
362 · Jul 2018
Elizabeth Zenk Jul 2018
Soft, lush green grass twirls beneath my feet.
Pale purple and white flowers speckle that spot.
I lay down in the bed of idyllic petals and grass.
I watch the pearly, cirrus clouds whirl in the atmosphere.
More than an hour frolicks away from my grasp as my gaze drifts across the dazzling sky.
I ease my own worries in that patch of beautiful, rich vegetation.
I rise up and begin to head home with a clear mind and better understanding of the world.
I pluck a singular blossom and twist it between my fingers as I head back to my bleak home still cherishing my serendipitous self-discoveries.
I place that flower in a book with the intent of saving it forever.
353 · Aug 2018
Ice Wall
Elizabeth Zenk Aug 2018
I’m trying so hard
to ***** that wall of frozen ice you have placed between us.
With an ice axe, I go down
on the meter-thick glacier
I grow weary of my failing progress.
I slide down the numbingly cold wall into the crisp blanket of snow.
And I call over between raspy breaths,
“If you keep shutting these conversations down I’ll stop trying to have them.”
and you quietly reply,
My sunken eyebags are darker than ever
the wasted energy of trying to establish trust
melts over me all at once.
Now I'm shivering alone.
351 · Oct 2018
drift away
Elizabeth Zenk Oct 2018
Death is

You knew
I wrote this as my heart screamed in pain.
I found this poem from months ago while looking for the truth I left behind.
348 · Jun 2018
Asymmetrical Girl
Elizabeth Zenk Jun 2018
An asymmetrical girl stares back at me.
Long face.
Uneven jaw.
Large chin.
Small mouth.
Large nose.
Uneven eyebrows.
Sunken, tired eyes.

Why does she even get up in the morning?

An annoying thing stares back at me.
Mumbled voice.
Unfunny jokes.
Tries too hard.

Why does she even get up in the morning?

A worthless creature stares back at me.

Why­ do I get up in the morning?
I stare back at me.
Not good enough.
342 · Jul 2018
Elizabeth Zenk Jul 2018
My hands fall blankly at my sides.
The blood stains, but never dries.
My theory was true.
I can't live normally without you,
but you'll go and forget.
Not one ounce of regret.
From girl to girl
From person to person.
I knew I shouldn't have even pretended you were different.
And now tangled up alone...again
Now I can tell this is the end.
I can't hold on to someone like him, dear.
Someone who really, really grinds my gears.
Stand up.
Look at me
as I speak.
It's not your fault...
It's mine.
It's mine...
313 · Aug 2018
Elizabeth Zenk Aug 2018
As sickening as it is to think about.
I’m often caught wondering.
If I missed out.
Missed out on problems .
Missed out on reason.
I missed out on when things were bad.
I have nothing to cry about,
And yet I still weep.
I will probably grow up the most normal out of us five,
And yet I still act like my life is the worst.
Maybe if I had a reason.
I wouldn’t feel like I need to validate my own emotions.
I wouldn’t doubt my own pain.
But I have nothing to complain about.
So why do I feel like this?
I just need to
Get Out
287 · Sep 2018
Elizabeth Zenk Sep 2018
Your voice in my ear,
makes my heart stop beating,
I push back my liquid sorrow,
You post about her,

Your smile on your face,
makes my heart stop beating,
I push back all my joy,
You talk about her,

Your angered texts on my phone,
makes my heart stop beating,
I push back hope,
You swoon over her

I am no more than an **** face with jokes.
269 · Nov 2018
the contraption‘s gear
Elizabeth Zenk Nov 2018
the hapless cries of my long-lost self
i’ve left so far in the past.
the unsightly girl,
who couldn’t stand up.
the pitiful love-struck gear,
turning round and round without a care in the world,
little did she know that within the upcoming years she’d begin to finally question her place in this infinite machine.
this infinitely,
never ending,
she is the contraption’s gear
267 · Jan 13
bad habits
bad habits
the normalization of disfiguring one’s self
a daily roadblock.
a bountiful collection of poor decisions
that i’ve lined up upon my wrist.
a bile curdling hatred of my fading wounds,
they are the only ones that stay.
bad habits
they are the only ones that stay
259 · Jun 2018
As If It Wasn't Bad Enough
Elizabeth Zenk Jun 2018
I return a year later, but without all of my friends.
Without you.
Wondering if you'll return.
As if it wasn't bad enough
I'm forced to look at that gloomy, lonesome, tatterdemalion bench we all used to sit and talk at.
I'm forced to hear your name, but none of my new friends know who you are.
I'm forced to see all of my old friend's faces in different places.
As if it wasn't bad enough
I have to hear your brother talk about us.
I have to see your face, not knowing if we'd ever talk to one another again.
I have to watch you walk away, your glasses reflecting the sunlight, without even saying a word to you.
As if it wasn't bad enough!
I have to hear people talking about you in conjunction with other girls.
I have to not be able to remove these pestering thoughts about you.
I have to suffer through these hellish flashbacks of everything without saying a single word.
This is bad enough, isn't it?
Maybe, it will be worth it if I get to see you again.
I miss you.
I'm just too scared to make any move what so ever.
So if you're reading this. You've gotta say something because I won't.
( P.S.: "so loud" is about the same topic )
243 · Dec 2018
Elizabeth Zenk Dec 2018
And through the hills and down to the valley to find a place to nest
the warblers,
the songbirds,
and the wrens alike.
Feathered avians here and there with a song they’ve known since childhood.
They chirp and they flutter,
but I shriek and sputter.
They tweet and call,
but I cackle and fall.
When face to face with flocks of gorgeous birds and their equally breathtaking tunes,
I’m often left to wonder
why I turned out so grim.
Was it the way I was born?
The nest I grew up in?
Or was I never supposed to be
the agile, effortless creature
everyone wished me to be?
I am an ****, revolting, thing
and that explains why nobody loves me.
How could anyone love a beast like me?
242 · Nov 2018
four-dimensional feelings
Elizabeth Zenk Nov 2018
four-dimensional thoughts.
senseless thoughts.
the kind of emotions you’ve never experienced.
the kind of thoughts that make the leaves change colors before your eyes
the kind of thoughts that make the tide drift away and never return.
the kind of thoughts that drive the most stable people insane.
the feeling you get when staring at the bottomless sky.
the feeling you get when faced with bottomless love.
four-dimensional feelings
can anybody understand these four dimentional feelings?
228 · Jun 2018
Running Away
Elizabeth Zenk Jun 2018
Stop shouting at my mother


I don't want to hear your voice


Why don't you understand


I don't want to live in this 'home'


Nobody does


So I'm sorry I have to do this


I have to run away from here



I'll never run far enough
Elizabeth Zenk Jul 2018
Why should I even get up?
I know I'm meaningless.
I know life is a pointless endeavor.
I know I'm unlikable, unloveable, and pathetic.
So why do I get out of bed?
There is no reason.
I should just stay right here and never leave.
Left with the only person who can hurt me now.
But even I don't want to stay here completely.
I'm still telling myself,

"elizabeth, you need to get up."
227 · Jun 2018
On My Roof
Elizabeth Zenk Jun 2018
Here I am.
Sitting on my roof, questioning life.
Coming to terms with the truth.
I am a mistake.
A big mistake.
And everybody knows.
The result of an affair.
I shouldn’t have been born.
I didn’t ask to be made.
I didn’t ask to be born.
I wasn’t in control, and if I was I wouldn’t have been chosen to be born.
It was not my fault. It isn’t my fault.
I can tell you blame me though.
So here I sit on my roof, staring at my lawn as deer pass by quietly.
In this fragment of time.
I can be in control.
I can watch the grass below me, and watch the clouds dance and turn, or I could jump off the room and scream.
For now, I just sit and type my years of sorrows in hopes to reach someone.
For now, I am in control.
For now.
227 · Jul 2018
Write My Name
Elizabeth Zenk Jul 2018
I used to write my name in ALL CAPS.
Screaming it for all to hear.
For I wanted to make a dent in the lives of all I met.

I used to write my name in bold
Standing out on the page, but knowing I was small.
For I wanted to make a mark in the lives of all I met.

I used to write my name in italics
Slipping out of the grasp of my author. Falling.
For I wanted to tick in the lives of all I met.

I used to write my name
Thinking my words were all I had,
For I knew I couldn't make a dent, mark, or tick.

I used to write my name
Now I know it's a waste of the only thing I truly had TIME
For it makes the biggest crater.
226 · Jun 2018
Elizabeth Zenk Jun 2018
I center almost all of my poems
in hopes, they will all be
more perfect and more beautiful
than me.
222 · Jun 2018
Elizabeth Zenk Jun 2018
She carried along a sad heaviness that bled into her gaze,
staining it with the sting of loneliness, and regret.
The prospects of living didn't seem too promising after all.
Missing him.
Missing home.
Nothing could stop the maggots tearing into her brain.
Causing her to forget who she was, and become a joyless host wandering around in hopes of finding love.
(I've been going on a streak of missing things. Sorry, if that's not what you like, but as of now that's all that's on my mind)
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