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it wasn’t the earth that brought them here. Nor grass nor tree
instead a solemn scavenger
disinterested of it’s grateful treasures

sprinkling not like rain but like ashes
a goodbye unsaid and unheard
a kiss blown from armies away
hoping it may reach his camp

no god brought it here
as we fight our wars and **** our brothers
it did not fall from heaven
pushing through a crowd of loss

may there be no reason for its being
but persist it must
in hope for its spawns survival
growing evermore

through the cracks, they pray that shrapnel escapes
not all are so lucky as they
blood spilling for their passage on

they are no villains
just weaken souls in need of homes
so far from where their lovers lay,
in bed with other men

deployed as her seed will be too
in the wind together
Elizabeth Zenk Oct 2019
no one tells her that those candy-colored pills are not chocolate
that no matter how many she stuffs she'll never be full,
nor will she be entirely empty.

though they taste so sweet
they will rot your teeth
and their effects shall be engraved in your skull

that candy apple cyanide
so hard to resist
so hard to not take a bite

no one tells the ugly girl with a mouth full of tombstones
that she gleefully presents for show and tell
that she too needs to eat, to keep it down

though the dissolving graves
withing her smile
tell a saddening tale

that candy apple cyanide
so hard to resist
so hard to not take a bite

no one tells her that her mind and mirror are distorting
morphing the person she truly is
into the person she hates to be

though her measurements are static
her body seems to inflate
like balloons at parties she avoided

that candy apple cyanide
so hard to resist
so hard to not that a bite

no one tells her that average isn't too heavy
that she can be loved and called beautiful at 120
and that she can love herself too

though she's grown accustomed
to the taste of acid and ice cream
and no sees no need for stopping

that candy apple cyanide
so hard to resist
so hard to not that a bite

no one tells the girl that she's wasting away her body
no one warned her of all the pain

no one warned her that her illnesses would always stay
flush those pills
let those apples rot
let your garden flourish
in the poison
you haven’t yet forgot
Elizabeth Zenk Sep 2019
your sugar-sweet voice
makes my face shift hues.
most every word you speak,
tastes of toffee and milk.

honeycomb heart
so sweet and so kind
your gentle embraces
taming my world of fear

you turn salty tears
into sweet honey
like warm liquid citrine,
golden as meadow’s light

delicate kisses
light sunshine touches
romance’s secret dance
our blooming love flowers

drunk off your nectar
a syrupy high
your heavenly flavor
erasing my mind’s pain
Elizabeth Zenk Aug 2019
the price you pay to be thin
you won’t even miss your fee,
it's just the feeling of empty

nevermind the color in your face,
draining into plastic bags,
filled with last nights hunger

no matter your darkening smile,
cracking into sunflower blossoms,
that you hide behind your knuckles.

don't bat an eye at your thinning hair,
swimming in your bathroom drain
strangling your hope of recovery.

now what could those tired eyes,
broken and red with strain say that
puffy cheeks and chapped lips cannot

lips like concrete, spilling weeds,
lips stuffed with cigarette love,
lips that once bloomed spoken word

but you smell of no dandelions.
you wear perfume of stomach bile
mixed with the stench of hatred.

the smell that every bathroom you visit
knows like the back of your hand,
the hand scarred with teeth’s embrace.

the side effects aren’t pretty
but that’s all a small price to pay
for the feeling of trying to be thin.
Elizabeth Zenk Aug 2019
am i something other than the scoff of thunder?
other than the whimper of the wind?
do my words mean more than the weeping of a storm?
or am i the same as the breeze out of reach of the hurricane’s rage?

shall i linger like ash
or drift like sea-foam?

what matters more
how loud my song
or how long it echoes?
or how long it echoes?
Elizabeth Zenk Jul 2019
you’ve drenched my canvas in pigment,
so i’ll paint you a memorial,
with passionate bonfire sunsets
lolling cloud’s giggles
and the loveliest oneiric wisps.

you are the piccolo sky

the maundering thunderstorm’s dissonance,
and the electric sting of the lightning.

the dazzling stars sharpness coupled with,
the magnetic pull of the milky moon.

the lustful vapor of magma sunsets,
and the shimmering ocean's distortions.

you're the tornado's wrath fueled destruction
and the light kissing dust in the sunrise.

you can be as daunting and as infinite
as you grey abyss in december,

or as soft as april's white raspy breath,
loving brushstrokes across the blue heavens.

i don't know how i reached you so high up,
or how i can stay afloat in the clouds.

but i will figure it out just for you.

you are the piccolo sky.
the piccolo sky

sharp yet soft
beautiful yet harsh
melodic yet shrill
Elizabeth Zenk Jul 2019
bony branches reach,
fingers point to wisps
bottomless sky trembles,
finches tread the clouds;
a question.

chilly breath rattles,
nature's coo darkens
waves of grey grow infinite,
deep grumbles follow;
an answer.

deciduous skeletons sway
dry leaves cackle
winds hum indifferently,
sinister growls emanate;
a warning.

bitter air swirls,
dark hatred billows,
rolling mistrust encroaches,
blanketing the stillness;
a threat.

viscous jaws snap,
energy laps at dry bark,
brief clarity,
deadly faze;
a strike.

woods slits into flame,
smoke oozes from its shelter
fire coughs sparks west,
destruction on its way
a battle.

droplets of forgiveness,
ashes sizzle into ink
soot dissolves away
war's footprint revealed;
a recession.
a gentle nod to 7/4/17
the damage renewed beneath unearthed soil.
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