Musings of a Beaverton Teen: Poetry is the clear expression of mixed feelings

Pink Napkins

The evidence is in your pink wedding napkin
The condemnation is the tears your daughters cry
The sentence is never knowing who I am

Hospital Bed

With you, I realize love is not a fix all
When you love, it is merely a needle and thread

Who are you to not learn how to sew my wounds?

The Suicide of Love

There is so much guilt in him it has him
Leaning off the side of a cliff claiming
His daughter jumped first

An Artist Loves Her Muse

You are my muse
I paint the pain of your past onto my skin
Trying to feel as you feel
Trying to see if I will treat my daughter the same if I too

Wear pain like you 

The Place of Passing Lanes
I hate being angry when I know I can love Just as easily
But seeing the back of you Is so much easier than facing you
And that is our miscommunication

Needing

When I stopped needing you
I did not feel freedom
I did not soar, a woman unchained
I cried, a girl aching

Elisabeth Dellit is a 9th Grader at Jesuit High School. She enjoys reading, writing creative stories, baking/cooking and participating in her school’s drama program.