Tag: Longing

Light of Libra

(Song) Best Served With: La Vie En Rose by Cristin Milioti

Link: https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=h6gdF8ynJDo

Image result for love

I have this pair of light blue jeans,

Torn, faded, tight around the sides,

Most say they’re too weird to be seen,

But to me they are as timeless as life,


They remind me of how you make me feel,

I did not know that beauty could silence,

I feel small because you are so surreal,

I cannot speak without some guidance,


They remind me of your features,

Of how I keep on trying to make you mine,

long hair, crooked smile

You are a picture;

The perfect snapshot of life in time,


They remind me of why I like you,

You are a saint to all you touch;

Generous but not too much

Forever sweet enough

And real to a fault,


They remind me of our friendship,

Or my failed attempt at a relationship,

I know that I am goofy, sometimes childish,

But you bring out all of me,

So please,

let me know all of you.


You are the spring in my step

The joy in my smile

The thought in my head

The twinkle in my eyes,


I have this pair of light blue jeans,

They are my perfect imperfection,

They make me do things I never thought I’d try,

And when I wear them, it feels like I can fly.


Elano’s Notes

Honestly, I penned this poem years ago. It was one of those impulsive, burst poems that were way different from what I wrote at that time because they were funneled from pure emotion. She knows herself and she captured my heart but I never really realized how deeply I felt for her until recently. And as you read this, I hope you–whoever you are– find someone that will make you feel the way she made me feel. And if you’ve already found them…

Hold on tight.


To Desire A Spine

Best Served With: West by River Tiber ft Daniel Caesar

Link: https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=sRsoE8q5sE8&pbjreload=10

Image result for unwanted child

Sometimes I wonder about porcupines,

About the needles on their backs,

Are they just cautiously lined platoons

Skinny stems of soldiery savor,

Natural armor for defense

Against the world?


Or are they spoils of a forgotten war,

Against the playground of fate,

Savagely scratching scores of silky skins,

Each one a nestled reminder of a stained past

Greeting an amber future.


Sometimes I feel like a porcupine,

With all these needles sticking to me,

Each of them gnawing at nature’s creation

Convincing; it is an abomination,


Transparency sloshes in its hollow sheath,

Either to deposit a whisper of change,

Or withdraw a wisp of abnormality,

A syringe’s worth.

Always a syringe’s worth.


Sometimes I envy porcupines,

As, in these white halls and spotless floors,

I feel like a neglected child;

A mistake nature never meant to make,

But one she could not be bothered to erase,


A stain in sanitized sheets.

And these needles;

They help me fight every day,

Only to live enough to fight another day

But when your fellow fighters all fade or fall,

It gets incredibly lonely.


Sometimes I wish I was a porcupine,

I could control the needles on me,

I could taste the warm summer breeze on my skin,

Bask in the sunlight as it dodges between tree leaves,

But the first thing I’d do is remove all my needles,

Because I know–

I, I just know.

That I will feel nature’s love as they regrow.



Of Cracks in Love

Best Served With: Easily by Bruno Major

Link: https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=lARENhXPftU

Image result for cracks in love

Alas my lips are heavy with guilt,

Perhaps silence should rule the day,

My heart preserves this love I built,

My hand broke it in but a day, I

Pillaged, plundered and ripped asunder, I

Weeded with care and touched another, I

Did not mean to cause such blunder, but

Bless my soul; I wished for more,

Your touch, your time and love are all,

Sweet heaven and earth denied my call,

I may not touch nor stalk nor stall.

When weak, my liquid mistress beckoned,

I drank and drunk the well

So, knell the gospel bells

For the sinner has stories to tell,

Though he loved and loved he well,

All is lost.

The gardener toils restlessly,

But if ever he denies a day,

The weeds infest incessantly,

And to fix; there is no way.


Deep down, I knew you weren’t with me,

But a man can dream can’t he.


Elano’s Notes

Love, because of how vulnerable and open it makes you, can be a lot like Jenga– a single wrong move is enough to bring the whole thing down. It is like being drenched in scalding water and then left to dry in the sun. It is even more painful when you realize that it is your fault, to some extent. And it is always your fault, to some extent. Sometimes when you lose love, you think of every excuse you can. A reason, any reason, to justify yourself, to ease just a little bit of that pain. The truth is, you are at fault and will not truly move on, until you accept that and learn to live with it. Or maybe that is just me.

What do you think? Let me know in the comments.