16

The anatomy of confidence:
be as brave as wolves
who call out in the darkest nights
when they know they need help.
Grasp loneliness by the reigns
and never bring it home.

Trudge the unpaved paths
grab your tools from the shed
and build your own defences.

Be unapologetic and call it
self preservation.

You don’t have to be a soft blanket
others find refuge in
when they’re too cold.
You’re allowed to be knitted of the same
kind fibre fabric
and also be brash to those who
kick you off the bed once they’re asleep;
who only hold you when they need you.

Wear your past and shortcomings as a quilt
you remove when it gets too hot.
You are a nation of white blood cells
defending yourself until your dying day
So tuck into your own blankets
put your phone on silent
ignore your door, knocking
and fall back asleep.

Advertisements

15

Pivoting personalities
doing your best to be everyone
for everyone.
Mother, daughter, wife
cook, cleaner, companion
putting on apron after apron but
never having time to dirty your hands.

A revolving door of weak, disappointing men
men who don’t pick you up from the airport
or pick up after themselves
those who demand recognition for chores
while you silently scrub the stove.

You’ve become the saddest slaughterhouse
a pair of hands, a mind to boggle
he asked for your opinion,
took it to the office, but still to his colleagues you are
boardroom businessman and wife.

May your tears turn to windshield raindrops
your daughters and nieces chase
for the rest of their lives.

May you be a maternal role model
of every girl’s massive mind.
May your apron be smeared by the tears of all the narrow men
who never believed in the strength
you always knew you possessed.

14

“If you were still here,
we could’ve become something.”
“I know.”
“I could’ve made you happy,”
“I know.”
step on my feet,
slow dance

We walked together everyday
after school stroll
cobblestone cul-de-sac
I went the long way
so I could match your stride

We walked each other home
our whole lives
but as we grew older, we never
walked into a home
we shared.

So let us toast
the saddest speech:
to all the childhood loves
who loved each other,
but never at the same time.

 

 

Happy New Year!
Love,
Elle

13

A measure of success:
family to love
feast to feast
warm cable-knit hugs
mistletoe, misty eyed

Overflowing guests
pouring in the front door
wreathed in balsam scent
nose hairs sharp
breaths puffed.

H’or d’oeuvres line the linen
pine tree, immaculate
tangled twinkle lights
creaky bathroom door
dinner bell ding.

The first quiet when all the guests
kiss goodbye
the nice China plates back in
the nice China cabinet.

I want this
the din of tinsel and bulbs
like December twenty-six
to twenty-nine
when I’m too happy to
take the tree away
when we have
no where to be, but
in our house, with each other.

 

 

Thank you for over 500 subscribers.
Thank you for nearly 3 500 visitors in only three months of being live here at elleguyence.
Thank you for providing a creative medium for us to share our lives with each other.
May your holidays be blessed with softness, kindness and health.

Love,
Elle

12

Missed connection
two cups on the ends of the thinnest string
dial the tone, set the mood
the scent of pine tree sap
strong against my blue nose.

Cold colours control
evening’s fireplace warmth
we welcomed December
as kind as we could
but still we sit,
frozen.

Sometimes, I think
your scarf is wrapped too tight,
you need to let yourself breathe
more than you need to fear the cold
seeping into your duvet seams.

Please, come in
(you’ve been here before)
soggy toes versus
fireplace crackle

“Home has always been here,
as long as you are, too
you can always stay
I’ve always wanted you
(to stay)”

The coffee machine’s stubbornness
to not burn the coffee
just once, please
please, just once

11

They leave and I love them, even still
my scaffolding collapses
rock to rubble
me, too weak
to carry this weight
my stride too short
my hopes too high.

I force people in, and
their splinters gnaw my lining;
my warm reception
for them to make themselves at home
has made me into a house.

These ghosts of mountains
I memorized landscapes
grooves, curves, dips
believing their permanence.

Dirty shoes
glass table
me, mud stomped
and only now as I widen my span
take the space I demand
pave my paths
I realize:
some people
will knock on this door
and ask to come in.

10

Pursuit of perfect
I didn’t always strive for
until I realized
I breed disappointment in myself
for not being enough
for me.

Black and white
every question has an answer
every achievement
has another, waiting
that I need to earn
and I will
(because I have to).

You’re a tsunami
blatantly blasé
of how my life is full of rulered lines
I’m a chart and you say you’re art
but you’re making a mess.

Aching for admiration
vying for validation
I’m exhausted from
mending myself.

Your life is malleable
and mine is solid concrete
I don’t trust your architecture
to hold me up;
so thank you for the offer,
but I have things to do.

 

This week, I did the Enneagram Personality Test and discovered I am Type Three: The Achiever.  If you’re interested in taking the test, you can find the one I did here under “Classical Enneagram Test.” What type are you? Do you agree? Leave a comment below!