
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.