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 Jul 2018 Elise Jackson
D
she's leaving

highways and high seas, she's crossing them all
achieving her dreams while shouting
at the top of her lungs **** everyone
and she laughs

because she's leaving her past behind her at last
she's going to be climbing mountains and laughing for the rest of her life and I feel happy for her but sad at the same time
 May 2018 Elise Jackson
Jack
“please be naked”

she stands in her doorway wearing just a gown,
I walk in the house, dumbstruck by beauty,
up in her room undoing the bow, the shield simply slides down
caressing her curves, stroking down to the floor,
intertwined bodies craving the touch of the other,
joined as one in the gentle acts of love and lust,
romanticised ideals of perfection and soft rhythm,
delicate groans as two become one,
the broken poet, for the moment, is gone,
my drug addiction of you, just wanting more,
As my heart bleeds, love begins to pour.

“please be naked”.
this poem is influenced by The 1975 instrumental song "please be naked". i regularly think of this song as romanticising the act of *** and the trust required with it rather than what most songs make it today. despite having no lyrics the song speaks volumes to me and id definitely recommend it to anyone. stay safe and live well. JY x
Please let me be there for you.
I want to know what you love,
What makes you think
Who you care about,
What brings you to the brink
Of disaster. Please tell me
Of calamities looming constantly,
Or just share a moment,
A secret, a well worn thought
That you haven't yet brought to reality.

I miss the vulnerability,
The pure, genuine realness
That comes with mixing tears
And unearthing fears.
I had high expectations
For the coming years, yet
it's so easy to alter memories,
and to distort feelings long faded.
Don't shut me out, please don't
Hurry to bring about the end,
Out of fear for feeling later
A more painful ending.
It's cowardice disguised
As righteous anger, but I guess
I can only recognize that in you
Because I'm feeling it too.
I was the one you shared everything with.
If you need to move on then move on,
but don't you dare erase that.
 Apr 2018 Elise Jackson
Kim
We're almost touching.
we were walking side by side,
you're talking about cabs in your hometown.
I can feel the gravity of your hand, calling my fingers
whispering "it's alright."

We're touching but not quite.
you held my shoulder to protect me from the passing cars.
and for the first time in a long while, I felt so fragile.
In this world where I find it hard even to breathe,
you believed me.

I almost said it.
All I need is one ounce of strength to tell you every single thing that I have ever felt about you.

I want to find home in your collarbones.
Would you be kind enough to let a stranger in?
I want to seep in your being because I'm cold.
The world is harsh and my cracks are aching.

Almost.
Please don't ever become a stranger,
whose laugh I can recognize anywhere.
 Mar 2018 Elise Jackson
Alessia
14 year old boys have a habit of picking at old wounds
Taking their finger and pulling on the flesh strings
The ones that took so long to heal
Reaching their hands out at your bullet wounds and throwing your blood on the white floors
Wrapping their arms around your waist
And holding on so tight you become blue in the face
Oxygen becoming a lump in your tired throat
And your words grasping on to the little bit of hope you had left
14 year old boys like making new wounds on your body and reopening old ones
flatten your tongue
slip it between your teeth

n.

your little lips
forming an elipsis

o.

put them together
and may you declare
a word you’d so carefully deny—
no.

you spell it out
on table tops
shout it
from the rooftops

and when cursed hands
seek to defile your shrine
may you exclaim
"i am mine"
for my precious friends with hearts too soft to say no. may you be a little more selfish.
 Mar 2018 Elise Jackson
alexa
there are so many of you
that i would love to sit down with;
maybe over a milkshake and a plate of fries;
and just talk.
i want to ask you about the boy that hurt you,
about the anger you feel deep inside
over a father who said he’d come back...
and then didn’t.
i want to run with you through pages of words and say
“oh that’s right, what a lovely metaphor.”
i want to see all your smiling faces and
thank each and every one of you for showing me kindness,
for saving my life.
i want to collaborate on novels of poetry
and laugh with you through the tears of our pasts.
so until we sip those milkshakes and eat those fries...
thank you, to
some of the most beautiful people i have never met.
to all my HePo followers/friends/ fellow poets! you have all given me a beautiful escape from Life <3
Stop setting yourself on fire for people who will sit back and watch you burn.
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