82

there are those who haunt like
slamming doors and breaking glass
and there are those who haunt like
faint whispers, just out of ear shot
hoping to be heard
and not, simultaneously

if I came back as a ghost
after all these things I lived
I couldn’t haunt those I left.
even if they forgot about me
I’d close doors quietly
leave everything in place
and I’d still love them anyway

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81

somebody else
the fear of being replaced
this unknown shape of you
that’s somehow always better,
smarter,
hotter,
coming to take your place,
your job,
your partner

I’ve been so afraid of encountering her
but it’s been years and I’m still here
and somebody else
has never come.

80

envision ambitions that are so loud
everyone can hear them

you’ve come all this way
everything that is ahead
is yours

 

 

I’ve had a crazy week launching ZED, a marketing agency run by 16-24 year olds across the country. I thought I’d share the pick-me-up I wrote to get me through this thrilling (and exhausting week).

Also, are you doing #NationalPoetryMonth? I am! Connect with me on Twitter to see my posts every night.

Love,
ELLE

79

of the love and lack thereof
I’ve cried over and ached upon
I can’t seem to will myself
to go back and wipe up those tears
erase those scars-in-the-making;
because everyday since,
poetry has melted off my skin
and onto pages and pages and pages.

 

 

A year and half since my launch on October 1, 2017, I hope you enjoy this refreshed look to the blog. I started this blog with no intention of where it is today–and I’m taking this 18-month mark to declare that it isn’t going anywhere anytime soon.
Thank you for your support on this whirlwind.

Love,
ELLE

78

I’ve dreamt of starting over
and this time, doing
everything just right
as if my failures
were wrong

in the airport
loaded with families greeting hello
lovers saying goodbye,
travellers unravelling maps

terminal gates waiting to be
pulled apart
the sound of wheels taking off,
wheels landing,
and luggage wheeled from
one country to the next
I realize I’m actually all these things:
the baggage I carry,
I’m arriving and leaving
all at once.

77

There is only the ocean;
waves, tide, surf
are simply parts
of the whole.

I used to build sandcastles
close enough to seashore
that they’d wash away, clean
before I got attached.

I manufactured moats
drawbridges and gates
spiral towers to hide treasures
keeping intruders at bay.

I never did need knights
as much as I told myself I did
I was a fine protector
a kind ruler over myself

but you were like gills
and I breathed new air
the salt of the sea
the grit of the sand

and I decided I’d move
my sandcastle away
from that rising tide
and invite you in, too.