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Dec 2015 · 2.9k
untouchable relation
Elizabeth Dec 2015
our typed up words hide emotions unseen
where sound can give a taste of truth
and even postcards can reveal

the tangles of the century and it's related loves
of technology's soft whispers
of clicking keys and computer buzz

in those ones and zeros that hold us close to heart
the miles are still real, seemingly we'll part

another buzz another ring another taste of you
but can these magical machines bring
me more than just the best of you

I want to hear the stutter when you're nervous and can't speak,
the whisper's of the secrets of what we'll do next week,
I want to see your hair disheveled when you get up out of bed
the slight portliness of figure like the bearded fella wearing a suit of red
I want to taste the treats of the dishes that I've seen

and of course
I want to taste your lips
carrying the flavors of cigar and wine
See the the glimmer in your eye
When some little excitement passes by
And hear loquacious diatribes as to gladly chime on in
starting from your normal dinner topics to our lives of sin

But all those ones and zero... and our miles still remain
hopes of this togetherness from which my brain
can not refrain
Mar 2015 · 1.3k
Elizabeth Mar 2015
Naturally her hair is always up
when she catches you sneaking a glance
she pulls out her hair tie with a tug
her hair falls all over her back and chest
framing her tanned face

her hair is deep chestnut brown with accents of caramel
but when she moves into the sunlight it glimmers a gentle auburn
her eyes glisten curious from the attention she gets
the bright green orbs with speckles and a ring of hazel brown
seem to get bigger as she stares back

her curls bounce as she completely turns to you
her face glowing with a perfect contentment
her cheeks flustered with a light pink blush
and her lips a faded red except the cherry red spot
where she keeps on biting her lip

as you savor her every bit
the long jet black lashes
her playful smile
you realize she already turned around

stealing your chance to take in her allure
her curls calmly rest on her back
oblivious to her enchantment of you
Nov 2014 · 648
Elizabeth Nov 2014
I notice you from afar
and as I glance to you and away
repeating until our eyes meet

There is nothing between us
but I feel a buzz a burn
your eyes follow me
as we move close

I see you undress me with your eyes
that's how our friendship is
built on a lust veiled in lies

as the niceties ensue
you press me closer yet to you
and all that's on my mind
is no greeting that I give
or  answers to "how do I do?"

but fantasies of past
forgotten in the midst of
everything that curtly ended

we briefly know to talk
to give each other space
but those feeling will not erase
the tingle in my spine
the warmth from my inside

from there we continue on
I wondering what went wrong
May 2014 · 9.6k
Elizabeth May 2014
Today I am superwoman,
I go to three jobs, one meeting, two classes
I wear five hats throughout the day.
I got those lovely eyebags as my trophy.

By being superwoman I accomplish anything,
everything that they told me I couldn't do.
I wanted to be in student government...
the popularity vote told me no but I showed them
I could do that too. They said you can't have everything
and here I am sitting with it all.

In this day of superpowers
I fly from class to job to job to job to meeting to home
but I am the most human today.

I laugh in the face of my fears of failure because I have already gotten on the road to success.
I cry because even I am entitled to a good cry every once in a while.
I am cranky because it evens out the crazy bubblyness that I always am.
I radiate happiness although I am drowning in work
I support and lean on those around me causing a tangled connection of love

In every capacity I am me, happy, sad, lethargic, energized, hyper, lost, leading.

In every Wednesday, I remember that my humanity all in itself makes me just as super human as the next girl or guy.
Apr 2014 · 928
Elizabeth Apr 2014
in the light we only converse
politely laughing at each others conversation
letting our feet wander into each others
you a boy and i a girl

in these light and cheery moments no one notices ,that you
and i are fundamentally different
nothing brought up about upbringing or perspective
religion or family

as i turn my face away from yours i see the weaknesses
that our playful conversations entail,
our differences
the ones that cause discord in harmony
and both of our inabilities to bend

there i am left in contemplation
does this time spend on daylight conversation
have any meaning
than to extend the night time exploration

Because in the night You are open with Me
when You sit next to me You sit close
not shying away from
the Eyes of the Night Sky
Not afraid to Break Taboo
To Kiss
To Hold
To Have

but the exploration goes back to contemplation
as i see you less at night and more in the day

I revel in sunshine, light
but when I revel in You I revel in Night
Mar 2014 · 246
four and six
Elizabeth Mar 2014
sleep with me through the night
I on your bed and you on the floor
keep me safe by knowing I'm right there
within reach, safe under your sleepy gaze

entwine your hands with mine
when everyone in the world is lost
to you to me to humanity to power

let me become a part of your fears
knowing that seeing me hurt is the
greater pain that our love can thrive
in darkness in fear in hate and from this
comes the beauty of our pure love to live
and let love to have and to hold forever and

a day

love me to let me go
love me so I know
Jan 2014 · 1.1k
Letting Go
Elizabeth Jan 2014
sometimes... when you let go all the pieces fall into place
we need the clarity of thought to bring us back to our own perfection
and for the ride as you let go you enjoy yourself more

let go of your fears your insecurities
let go of stigma and what others may thing
let go of life itself

in order to be brave to be beyond beautiful
to be above social conventions and norms
in order to grasp on to life with a tighter understanding

Letting go was the best idea I gave myself
and with letting go its time to let go of this as well
Dec 2013 · 948
Elizabeth Dec 2013
Later someone told me my poetry should be read aloud
with the feelings that I want to be heard
that my poetry should be spoken word
spoken truth
spoken loud

It was about my struggle
although mine are quite small
a white girl in white bread world
middle class family
stuck in the middle of two cultures
some image issues
some insecurities
being taught to be subservient
and quiet

Now my poetry speaks for itself it speaks with my voice
with my will and with my wanting
it speaks of the boys I like that I will tell I like them
it speaks of the dresses I will still wear even though they make me look ****
it speaks of the self defense classes I will take so I can proudly walk in the night with no fear
it speaks of the career that I will have in medicine
it speaks of the kids that I will raise simultaneously
it speaks to the world that I am me

as my struggles feelings emotions become personal
the words disappear

quiet only when I want them to be

because I am giving you
my spoken words
my spoken feelings
my spoken truth
my spoken life
and keeping a part of me for me

even while I'm speaking loud
a complimentary poem to I was taught poetry
Dec 2013 · 6.6k
I was taught poetry
Elizabeth Dec 2013
As a child I was taught poetry
the quiet writing of feelings reflections
often in a beat with a rhyme and a few examples of alliteration

I was taught that as a woman my feelings
should be hid and kept quiet
that when I liked a boy it was not my place
to ask him whether he liked me back
I was taught to look out for myself by not dressing slutty
not walking home late at night
I was taught that my curvy figure would make people
question my morals my virginity my character
I was taught that as a girl I won't be as successful in math or science
I was taught to give myself to other pursuits
in liberal arts or domestic dealings
I was taught that even if by some miracle I found success in the fields where I "wouldn't be successful"
that I would and should give it up in a heart beat to raise a family
I was taught that I must share my feelings
my emotions my struggles
but not in a loud and open way

I had to remain quiet cool composed

Poetry was to be my outlet, written in couplets sonnets and verse
quiet and held inside written on paper
stored away from the world
to be read inside the mind
by others- men, teachers, parents
in order to decode me
and learn how to

This is meant to be read aloud/ performed as spoken word. I'm also working on the "sister" poem to this one.
Dec 2013 · 764
a splash of bordeaux blanc
Elizabeth Dec 2013
I picked up a wine glass
not because you told me to
I just had to
pick one up to get back at you

you picked up a wine bottle
but that's not for me
as a lady I must stay classy

I sit here waiting for you
to tell me you want me
I sit here sipping my wine
hoping you will call on me this time

it takes me a few drops to be drunk
drunk off of my feeling
drunk to my core
drunk on

chasing a silly little dream of you
taking care of me
as i sip my
bordeaux blanc
taking care of myself
in the harsh reality that is my life
Dec 2013 · 941
one week from understanding
Elizabeth Dec 2013
first day
i liked all your pictures
you said a few things and surprisingly i listened
it was my birthday you politely wished me happy birthday
second day
we talked about opera
we share a few favorites
third day
you asked me where I was
I was at TJ's
Fourth day
Fifth day
i sent you a picture of a puppy you sent me pictures of yours
we kept on talking while sitting a few people away
it was nice
sixth day
you said you would stay up with me
we kept each other in good restless company
took a few walks
studied a bit and distracted each other when needed
you invited me over
seventh day
when i came over you gave me your blanket to get under
my head fell into place onto your shoulder because  I was tired
it was very easy comfortable and nice
and as my hands got cold I reached under the blanket
i accidentally grazed your hand
and then in that moment
it wasn't all so accidental
you reached for mine
and our fingers were loosely entangled
i made myself more comfortable
listening to the pulse in between our hands
and your heart beat in sync with mine

and on the eight day i wait
and wait
and wait to understand this week
and to understand you
Dec 2013 · 482
Elizabeth Dec 2013
I barely know you
But you feel mine,
It might be because I'm tired,
because I'm stressed.
I just want someone,
something feasible.

I want our one handshake to be extended to a hug,
I want something more from you but I can't ask it of you.

Pretend that we have been more than just brief acquaintance,
know that the potential for more is not something I just made up in my mind.

I want to open up to you. I want you to know what a messy life I've lived.
likewise I don't want you to know anything to see me as an enigma to be figured out
to keep you curious in me because at the end of the day I'm rather plain.
I want to hide my missteps because I might not meet your expectations.

All of this is my wants... maybe I should just hear out yours.
If the stars align your wants will be mine and mine yours.
But I don't see you today and not today it will happen.
So I go back into my stress stricken world,
adding you to my worry.
Jul 2013 · 712
I've never lived alone
Elizabeth Jul 2013
I've been to camp, I've had roommates, I've lived with my parents

but I've never lived alone.

I've never had to think what's for dinner in a way where I walk into the supermarket and am planning dinner for the whole week
I've never had to worry about a leak in the bathroom a counter that wasn't fully clean.
Now I sound like some rich kid with maids- I wasn't. I would take out the trash at home get the mail do the dishes. But it wasn't more than a chore something I would do to get my allowance to help out my mom or just be useful with my free time.

Now I am an adult. I wash my dishes. I take out the trash. I worry about forgetting to lock my apartment. I go to work in the morning and return at night. And after 19 years of company in my home I sit down for dinner alone.

listening to the whir of my computer as I try to connect with my home my family my friends even a random stranger to cleanse this loneliness of mine.
Jun 2013 · 502
the end is a beginning
Elizabeth Jun 2013
I hate it the bitter taste of letting go.
I used to see you every week twice a week like clockwork
I used to take comfort in your conversations
I used to love you, but I don't now
What I have towards you is better

We made faces at each other across the room
Giggled over our professor
******* about the problems people brought
Smiled when it was a good day
Kept a secret together

You would plan all of our nights out
Everyone and you
Everyone loved you

And now I will be in your shoes
Someone will find comfort in me as I found in you
But no one will have that particular smirk
Or that ridiculous laugh.

The friendly flirtations of our days will transition to
Texts, Facebook messages, planned lunches
Lacking that youthful spontaneity of time before
They will be my break in reality, drops of perfection.

But I guess that's growing up
Your end is my beginning
A beginning where I'm venturing alone
Apr 2013 · 596
Elizabeth Apr 2013
I feel the warmth of your glowing skin
as the cloth that drapes your shoulder slowly drops
I feel your caresses from deep within
although you haven't touched me yet

as you lose that piece of fabric
you lose yourself in me
in the unknown
our love

and fabric
is not just cloth
but a metaphor in
which we hide our forbidden
love and carnal desire, for we are one

no one can care to interfere in our world
no one knows how you lain with me
and in this world of you and me we need no company
just you and me undressed for us to see
Mar 2013 · 952
messy papers
Elizabeth Mar 2013
i'm searching for the wreckage all around the room
a proof or life of better yet of doom
in the messy papers of my pure existence

piles stacked up everywhere from the summer day of june
to the crinkled notebooks from the months of gloom
tales of school life, friendship, and betrayal

and in the words i see a figure close to me
the figure show to me is he
a figment of my old imagination

a prince to be
better than the one in life, (times three!)
but is he real or is it me

can my messy papers be more than thoughts?
can my messy papers be tales i sought?
and yet the questions come to me

but as i ponder in the room
and contemplate as i further broom
is it a lie a dream or fake
when is it time for my awake

from simple lies or stolen goods
from broken hearts misunderstood
my life is real and yet its fake
written down with all mistakes

and joy and laughter filled the day
but sorrow is all i have to say
the times have changed with good and bad

but are we all alone in this i ask
if my memory serves correct
those messy papers are filled with regrets
and promises and hope

but these papers are all my past
and my job is to make the memories last
so there the papers flutter in my room
reminding me of fate of love of hope and doom
Mar 2013 · 648
Simply me
Elizabeth Mar 2013
I am a girl who really doesn’t know what she wants. I am a romantic. I seek a friendship entwined in a love. A rarity these days. Now I just sound like a online dating profile. No I will not let that be.

I am a unique lost whimsical girl. And there I go again. Dating profile. Intro line.

I want someone to love. Because I do it well. Loving and all of that. Even the others before claim that I take care of them well, I’m sweet, kind, caring. Just keep on imagining adjectives. The good ones.


Why can’t it just be simple. The way it was before. Just friendship that was so great that we couldn’t only be friends.
Mar 2013 · 294
Can't you be mine?
Elizabeth Mar 2013
Is it so wrong that our souls speak to each other and we have an intimate connection.

That when I see you I just want to curl up in your arms. Never letting go of that hug.

Is it so wrong my heart flutters when I receive your messages and I smile when I feel you thinking of me.

That I have already exchanged my heart for yours in secret.

Is it so wrong I want you for my own and maybe occasionally to share the wonder you bring to me.

That I wait for that day when you are mine.
Mar 2013 · 840
Burnt orange
Elizabeth Mar 2013
the burnt orange couch reminds of late nights past

the scattered papers and the whirring of my brain trying to think through you

and lost i have been in your words and numbers

from this peril tears unheard

and i gaze into your depths have you yet but one regret

for the torture that you give the sleepless night that i have had

the sacrificial lamb i have become on your behalf

and to this beauty of deep burgandy a wish for it to cease to be

your wisdoms i might need much later but i would rather avoid them at all cost

yet you persuade me that they need not to be lost

and as tommorrows time will pass these 7 parts of you will fade

my mind will not remember or care to think of you again

but nuisance as you might be a weeks worth time and you will beg at me

for my memory for my care - this is no love affair

i will never love you so you are a book

and I …. no.

and while you contain what i must know i will never worship your insides

no rhyme will do you justice to show my dislike for you

chemistry this love will never be true.
Mar 2013 · 395
Elizabeth Mar 2013
Realistically you don't exist
just a figment of my imagination
Its perfection that I see that makes me doubt reality

The fact that you are what I want plus one and two and three and more
I see you rarely often but that's enough at best

Your presence
when I look beyond the rest of the constant pictures of you or thoughts of yours
that cross my path
distracting me from learning better things like math

But in my days I long to see you
rather than just be a distant memory in my mind
so that you are the one that notices me walk by
and question me the day you don't cross my eye

But you are perfection not reachable by me
crossing my mind know is what I am forever destined to see
without your company.
Mar 2013 · 1.1k
Elizabeth Mar 2013
Perfection is not in a name
a race or a color
perfection is not just a game
to be won or to win
perfection is not what I seek
when I look for a lover or a friend
perfection is what I feel within when the music of life begins

— The End —