If it's not love, then it's the bomb that will bring us together (ask me, ask me, ask me)   If you must write prose and poems, the words you use should be your own (Submit)   Other Shenanigans   

Hi.

I'm Elise. I'm 16, in Sixth Form and living (or I should hope that I'm alive) in the UK. Hope you're well.

This blog is largely for my original work, and I really hope you enjoy. ♥ Everything here belongs to me, unless stated otherwise. To be fair, why would you want to steal it.

Puck, A Great Journey from the Mountainside

eliseisyourfriend:

 

I awoke twice unto the partial light.
The partial light, familiar and is mine now,
as my heart bleats, after many checks.
After I woke up first as somebody else.

They were my reasoning for my fear
Of spiders and my skin
Sins explained it seems
Within the dream with
Torn and tired of gleams
In the green wall-paper…

I woke up as somebody else at first;
Delirious. Weak. Someone who had
To double-check my bloodflow. Sad
In a different way, a different room;

So take my hand if we be friends,
A silent spider aspires across the air
And gives me visions
Within visions there: 
Bugs; how I trembled…how
whoever I was…whoever
  I am now…

Well rested indeed to dream of a body like a weakened ragdoll
And to wake atop the dawn of personal definition.
Check my heart is beating one more time, though..with pain, I hope
That this is not my last tradgedy…

I think of you…

(via eliseisaslob)

— 2 weeks ago with 3 notes
Puck

I awoke twice unto the partial light.
The partial light is familiar and mine now
as my heart beats, after many checks.
After I woke up first as somebody else.

They were my reason for
My fear of spiders and my skin
Being dry, or spotty; the dream
Had this as its bi-product aim

I woke up as somebody else first
Delirious. Weak. Someone who had
To double-check of my bloodflow
In a different way, a different room;

Take my hand if we be friends,
A silent spider aspires across the air
And gives me visions
Within visions: bugs,
How I trembled…how
whoever I was…whoever
I am now…

Well rested indeed to dream of a body like a weakened ragdoll
And to wake atop the dawn of personal definition.
Check my heart is beating one more time, though pain…I hope
That this is not my last tradgedy…
I think of you…

— 2 weeks ago with 3 notes
#poetry  #poem  #sorry if i die  #or anything  #i hear the birds...  #first draft 
Skelett-und Schlacht

eliseisyourfriend:

dead for the light
fed for the spite
lead for the pipes
tread on a jam wagon-wheel

"dead" now is kind,
lustre, gone. night comes
forward and against it we
all fall back 
in the hall
where the ball
and the air sings 
as we hit
the walls

dead people in the fresco:
in the minds of artists, once
they lived and still they dance
in decayed brainwaves. Energy
can not be destroyed
but we’re just flesh, my boy

Die Grabsteine​​, meine Liebe
But the trees 
and the sky
and the light

And the birds
and your eyes,
Meine Liebe

(Source: eliseisaslob)

— 3 weeks ago with 4 notes
Die Grabsteine​​, meine Liebe

eliseisyourfriend:

dead for the light
fed for the spite
lead for the pipes
tread on a jam wagon-wheel

"dead" now is kind,
lustre, gone. night comes
forward and against it we
all fall back 
in the hall
where the ball
and the air sings 
as we hit
the walls

dead people in the fresco:
in the minds of artists, once
they lived and still they dance
in decayed brainwaves. Energy
can not be destroyed
but we’re just flesh, my boy

Die Grabsteine​​, meine Liebe

(Source: eliseisaslob)

— 3 weeks ago with 4 notes
#poetry  #poem 

eliseisyourfriend:

Am I still young enough to talk of dread every day
Or am I a dreadnaught now
  Talk as if you are another person
  The one in your head, someone
  Who does but doesn’t do all 
  More or less, they are an adult being

Solid gold fish in a gold bowl of white fishing reel
Congratulations read out chalk-like, taciturn
on a roll of dishcloth.You see, it hurts, being
  An observer on how
  on how it could have differed
if indeed the temple
  if indeed the temple takes my words,
  takes our letters, takes the heartstring-writters and flitters
and doesn’t splash it on a bright broken cloth to cover up

It’s own insecurities 

(Source: eliseisaslob)

— 3 weeks ago with 4 notes
#utter bullshit 

Yet clearer than ever, somehow

— 3 weeks ago with 1 note

stop thinking something so I float in to something
what is my goal? is there some structure that I know?
If I can’t finish, then maybe
I’m not going to have to end

— 3 weeks ago with 1 note

I wanted for it to be bad
so that I could move on
and not have to commit
to listening to another song

But it made my heart
stop 
twice

and my eyes sting and 
I’m remembering

my ears hurt, curtly
hunger monger hungover in a
4-bedroom semi, and lately

Less stressed now or am I getting used
to it Disciplined or Reigned by

Stopping sentences is becoming my thing

His
is

Stop now

No, don’t stop,

don’t stop

— 3 weeks ago with 3 notes

And when you realise how little you can handle.
And “when you realise how little you can handle.” becomes a phrase
falling into the basket with the others with a clink
to be smashed apart or picked
at in one way or another. A failing.
And insecurity.

I’m just as bad as her. I want just
as much attention. My breathing is heavy
with water, saturation, a sponge
preoccupied with solid green toxin

feet pandering
head continuing
there is not one choice
there is no answer that’s right

There is no - 

Pattern pattern pattern wander
panda pander pandering the globe
back back way back I used to
front like Angkor Wat I suppose
I think it’s all that I can do I guess

But what I know is that it’s so much more than that
And I know that I’ll look back
I’ll look back
At the lobsters in my spine:
Annie Hall, 1998,
Swine flu

It started off small, but then it grew
We all have specialties and our loves, too

Should I shrink away or should I draw a blue
raisin-skinned crystal
glass ha, ha, ha
Where’s the bar? Am I good enough?

— 4 weeks ago with 1 note

  you can tell

can you 
know

that all of

this 
is   for you
                           is  for you? 

You can, if you want
You can if you want 
And if you want then at least you’re taking…
…you know what?

I doubt you’d take the interest

                 3%

off the shelf;
It’s been there for 
so long now. 

                                                                          I do not know where to stop
Careful or I’ll drive you around a round a bout

                                                                            for you?
I do not know and if I did, would I even be writing

— 4 weeks ago with 1 note

Oh, go to sleep
I will wake you up, maybe,
Again
In my dream

Your old ex-girlfriend,
Possibly mean,
Methamphetamine 

George is a coat and 
goat’s a boat dressed as a 
princess trope

It will not go to sleep
And if I weep 
Then I’ll come wake you up,
I promise I won’t kill you 
in your sleep;

I hope not. 
I love you.

— 4 weeks ago with 7 notes
#poem  #poetry  #ugh  #love  #u no 
An Outwinded Western

The taste
of blue pool water; sunny, chlorinated
Refracting, unlacking, cracking, buy untrue
In the sunshine of a young breast’s
wild west dream
in minuscule

— 4 weeks ago with 4 notes
#poetry  #poem 

subjective adjective, injected with 
scrambled eggs and purple
math amphetamine 
  at the pinnacle
  of the spinnacle;

— 4 weeks ago with 2 notes