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ella maria Aug 2013
You left a crooked smile and a bitter taste in my mouth

You left shrugs, glares, unanswered questions

You left scraps of your spidery handwriting and an ache in my chest

You left me with people that are hollow, who look at me with disappointment - they want what I cannot give

You left a whisper, a murmur

I awake at 2:32 and I am 
empty

You left.
ella maria Jun 2013
Eyes tightly shut, I count to a safe number and turn the switch

On
Off
On
Off
On

On?

On is where my demons lie,
where the obsessive
counting , swallowing and numbers
clutch at me.
Where I see darkness even when my eyes are
open,
where being awake is no consolation.
All my scars are exposed, my anxiety evaluated and
my fear is exposed.

Off?

I'm no longer me.
The material is ironed out, I fluctuate and bend.
I am false.
I make sounds which are not my own,
forget myself.

I forget to clutch at you.
You're  amongst my demons,
often
you  are my demons.

And there lie my choices,
if choice even exists
at all.
ella maria Aug 2013
Breath evaporates, vision clouds -
I drift, it is peaceful in the deep
I no longer feel like a burden; lumbering and pathetic  

My hands are soft,
my thighs milky and unclenched
my lips barely touched

Insomnia envelops me once more and I awake: 
this body is not ready
ella maria Jun 2013
Take me away from here to a place where
No - one knows us.
I'll pay for your coffee when you forget your money.

The only flat that we could afford
Would be above a cafe with chipped
White painted windowsills and cold stone floors.

We'd hide under duvets eating toast and you'd
Nestle against me; whispering in the darkness.
Your feet would be icy and we'd
Fall asleep to the sound of
The rain.

There's no - one else I'd rather be with,
No other company I desire
Besides yours.
The others are false and faded,
You are timeless to me.

I'd read to you in the evenings and
Steadily you'd unravel,
Stop hiding.
You'd kiss my forehead and
Mend the cracks
In my mind.

We'd grow old together, you and I.
ella maria Jul 2013
It's so easy to hang your head in shame,
To apologise without sincerity.
It's so easy to wither and crumple,
To let self loathing eat away at you like blight.
It's so easy to allow yourself to become nothing; something temporary.

Simplicity is a requirement,
we avoid all which attracts anarchy within us.
We do not anticipate accidents, we do not anticipate
those who clamber into our lives and shine
with individuality and complexion -
we fear those who possess difference.
It reminds us of what we lack,
or of what we are too afraid to expose to others.

And I fell in love with a rose, when I am merely a dandelion.
I write poems only to destroy them immediately;
endless words dedicated to people who will never dedicate a single thing to me.

I wither, I crumple.
I chose simplicity.
ella maria Jul 2013
I'm a shy and anxious soul
often clumsy with my words
I make pitiful mistakes

I lack work ethic and confidence
I'm easily steered, easy to break

My clothes don't hang beautifully on me,
I have no clarity or grace
I'm embarrassing, ridiculous and often dull

I shatter daily, fall in love with the idea of freedom
yet crave solitude
I cry easily
avoid people

I'm not breathtaking or magnificent,
I don't stand out
I rarely elicit charm or charisma

I could trace each of our fleeting conversations back and
correct every word that I've uttered,

but I would annihilate myself before I hurt you even a little bit.
I'm not proud of this in any shape or form; it has no structure at all but I was exhausted and headachy and bleurgh
ella maria Jun 2013
I like his voice, his laugh, the bravery that he unintentionally coaxes out of me.
I like the shape of his mouth and the softness of his lips.

I like the way that he walks;
hands in his pockets and facing the floor.
I like the length of his eyelashes and the freckle on his ear
that I once mistook for a piercing.
He is beautiful, so beautiful.

But the words that tumble from him are twisted and cruel,
He is not soft and golden like the hairs on the back of his neck
that my fingertips know all too well.
The butterflies in my stomach are trapped bats
which tear up my insides when he smiles at me.

I crave his outsides, as he craves mine.
He filled a gap, and now it is time for him to leave.
ella maria Sep 2013
We do not know what is happening at the moment farther away in the universe: the light that we see from distant galaxies left them millions of years ago. When we look at the universe, we are seeing it as it was in the past. We look up at the stars, the beauty of lights as they go out. The sun is collapsing in on itself and emitting the only  hope we have of survival; we bask in the death of something we would die without.

We have one chance to live, yet feed off death. We all share the same sun, the same sky. We are all faced with a sense of irrelevance.

*How can we be a part of something bigger when we are smaller than ever?
This isn't really a poem, it's the abscent minded musings of a less than average teenager who has spent the whole evening reading A Brief History of Time. Soz.
ella maria Jul 2013
no sadness is beautiful nor poetic;
free me from the awe of suicide.

our skin is translucent, as one we flutter and fade
- our time here is temporary

— The End —