I'm so...

I'm so tired of wishing
On countless shooting stars.
Wasting all my 11:11's
To be right where you are.

I'm so done pretending
That's everything's okay.
That I don't care how you feel
Or care what you don't say.

I've tried my very best
To always be there for you.
But it's clear you never cared
Despite the fact I think you do.

You've used me; left me discarded
Leaving me alone to heal.
I'm not coming back
I've lost that drive to feel.

I'll be there for myself
So sit around and play your little game.
I'm going to learn to love
And learn to love where I aim.

A little target practice
Is all I really need.
I thought I had hit a bullseye
But you never took to the lead.

I'm so ready to love
To put my heart out on the line.
I'll let myself be vulnerable
I'll search for all the signs.

So maybe I'll start wishing again
On countless shooting stars.
Giving all my 11:11's
To find that he's never been that far.

Written June 24, 2013
By Elisse Cook

A Story

The trees flow slightly through the florescent windows.
Each color,
Each breath,
Casts a light upon that which is unknown.
You sit across from me into that glow.
You are my haven,
My escape,
My safety.

I don't know you,
You don't know me.
But I've seen the story your eyes hold.
A story in which nobody knows,
Not even you.
But something that I do know,
When I looked into those eyes,
I fell in love with you.

Written September 2009
By Elisse Cook

The Loss of a Life - Part Two, Neglect/Lack of love

A wall

Is stared at blankly by a girl.

It’s the only hope she has -

It’s her friend.

She sees herself within it,

Plain and bland.

Maybe she is that wall

It’s overlooked,

Taken for granted.

She tries not to care

That she is the wall –

Painted over

And covered.

Yet, it holds so many surprises

That only she will know.

She tries not to care

That there’s no one willing to see past her,

That no one is taking the time to care,

That she is slowly going numb

The light that once shown through her is gone,

Diminished,

Only a faint, quiet memory that she desperately tries to hold onto.

All she can see is darkness ahead,

A thundering cloud encompassing all that she is.

A wall

Is stared at blankly by a girl

It’s the only hope she has.

It’s her friend. 

Written June 14, 2013

 By Elisse Cook

Coincides with "Protect the Children" written by Elder Dallin H. Oaks for the October 2012 General Conference for the Church of Jesus Christ of Latter-day Saints. 

Here's a copy of the article:

http://www.lds.org/general-conference/2012/10/protect-the-children?lang=eng

The Loss of a Life - Part One, Abortion

A life lost

Thrown away due to a selfish desire

It’s not fair - 

Encouraging the preventable

Relishing in the avoidable

Willingly participating in the avertable

There’s always a choice

A choice to save a life

Why take away that right from another?

What can you gain?

Why take away the opportunity for future generations?

Although there may be a circumstance

Where it is the only option 

A health circumstance - 

Not an "I'm scared"

"I'm not ready"

"I don't want this" circumstance

 Is the feeling really worth it?

The feeling of knowing the deed has been done?

The overwhelming feeling of guilt?

No one should have to suffer that.

No one. 

Written June 13, 2013

By Elisse Cook

Coincides with "Protect the Children" written by Elder Dallin H. Oaks for the October 2012 General Conference for the Church of Jesus Christ of Latter-day Saints. 

Here's a copy of the article:

http://www.lds.org/general-conference/2012/10/protect-the-children?lang=eng

Disclaimer

The Loss of a Life series travels through all the different situations of child neglect. Going into Marriage and Family Counseling, I am a strong advocate for safe and stable family environments. I read a talk recently called "Protect the Children" written by Elder Dallin H. Oaks for the October 2012 General Conference for the Church of Jesus Christ of Latter-day Saints. In his talk, Elder Oaks covered many different topics that are very controversial today such as abuse, neglect/lack of love, abortion, and many others.

This series really means a lot to me. I understand that others may not have the same view as me but I hope that I do not offend. This is strictly my opinion of that which I want to implement into my work life once the time comes.

The talk is amazing and I strongly recommend reading it. The link is found below:
http://www.lds.org/general-conference/2012/10/protect-the-children?lang=eng 

Footsteps

Poem about a Guardian Angel

Footsteps.
That's all I heard as I watched him walk away.
The girl standing next to me,
Her form shaking with sobs.
One might not understand why he left.
But it happened.
There's not much you can do.
As she looked down at the overgrown grass
She carefully put her ring on the ground.
All I wanted to do was wrap my arms around her
But I couldn't.
How could I just stand there?
And do nothing?
I look over at him,
Our eyes meet before he walks toward her.
He looks at her stained face.
He wants to hold her,
Comfort her,
But what can he do?
As he reaches her
He sees the barrier between them.
He bends down to carefully pick up the ring
And realizes he can't get up.
The ring in his hand disappears as his fingers close over it.
He's staring at his fist as she brings her hand to her lips
And then touches the grave.
He watches her as her hand passes through him.
He wants to cry,
But the tears won't come.
He screams,
The sound ricocheting through the sky.
She walks away
Failing to not look back.

Soft, even breathing.
That's all I hear as I sit at her bedside.
I watch as her eyes slowly flutter open.
She gets up and walks right through me to the window
And carefully rests her head against the glass.
I watch as he walks into the room
And stands behind her,
Breathing in her scent.
He clasps a chain around her neck
And plants a soft kiss where the chain rests on the base of her neck.
He softly tells her he loves her before he walks out.
She is oblivious to what happened.
She places her hand over her heart trying to calm it down
And feels something cold.
Her hand instinctively closes around the chain
As she pulls it into eye view.
On it rests her ring,
The one she received long ago
But left only days before.
Silent tears slide down her cheeks.
Her smile is faint,
But it's real.

Written December 2008
By Elisse Cook

Something Truly Magical

The mind and heart

Two beautiful organs that keep us alive

It’s a constant battle for attention between the two

They’re a jealous type

I guess that’s why they can never seem to agree on anything

Each one trying to argue their side

Hoping that they’ll be right

The one’s whose decision is picked

Little do they take into account the well-being of those whom they reside.

It’s a frustrating dilemma is puts us all in

Trying to be the mediator between them

Although it’s hard to be the mediator when you’re the one who is dealing with it –

Physically, emotionally, spiritually, mentally

However, there comes a time when something truly magical happens

A time when that contention is temporarily gone

A time when that once in a blue moon has been found

A time when they agree with each other

That’s how you know when something’s really right

I suppose if they always agreed

It would take away the magic of being able to choose for ourselves

Written Monday - June 10, 2013

By Elisse Cook

He's Gone

He sits there.
Alone.
Lost.
Scared.
He sits there.
Thinking.
Dreaming.
Wondering.
He sits there.
Questions flooding his head.
"Why?" He thinks.
He sits there.
With memories.
With saddness.
With hope.
He sits there.
Scarred.
Beaten.
Broken.
He sits there.
Slowly sinking away.
Fading.
Translucent.
He lies there.
He's gone.

Written November 2008 - about conformity
By Elisse Cook

The Envelope

A boy,
Without thoughts in his head.
A paper,
One without words.
Sits beneath him,
waiting to consume his thoughts.
A pen in his hand,
Moving at the speed of light.
A paper,
One with three words
Now rests in an envelope.
An envelope,
Tied intricately around a rose.
A rose,
Now rests in the hands of a beautiful girl.
An envelope,
Untied from the rose.
A paper,
Slowly pulled from its barriers.
A hand,
Carefully brushing the tears from her cheeks.
A paper,
One with three words - I love you.
Three words,
Whispered softly in her ear
By the one who washed her tears away.
Two arms,
Carefully envelope the girl in his embrace.
One love,
That rests on a faded wrinkled paper.
That paper,
Now rests on a fresh grave.
That grave,
That recently rests next to another.
A girl,
A replica of that girl before
Slowly falls to her knees.
Two arms,
Carefully wrap around her waist
Keeping her together.
One hand,
Wiping the tears from her cheeks.
Three words,
Whispered into her ear.
Those words,
Ones that cannot be lost.
A rose,
Now withered and black,
Rests on that grave
With the envelope intricately tied around it.

Written October-November 2008
By Elisse Cook

Anonymous

The colorless river,
Now shines from the illuminating sunset.
The birds,
Faintly singing a lullaby.
A girl,
Sits alone on a wooden swing swaying light in the breeze.
She quietly hums with the birds,
Silently wishing she had someone of her own.
Someone to save her,
Hide her under his wings.
Teach her to fly,
Soar above the setting sun.
Teach her to sing,
So, she too, can sing that lullaby.
A girl,
Sits with her love on that wooden swing swaying light with the breeze.

Written October 2008
By Elisse Cook

Shed of Tears

A light that shines above the rest
A realization now known.
A simple love that conquers all
Confusion overthrown.
I wasn't sure,
I didn't know what love could do to me.
A single heart,
The shed of tears,
An unreal fantasy.
It can't be real,
It can't be true,
It has to be a dream.
Because a single heart
As it sheds its tears
Of the one it wants,
The one it needs.
There's only one to make it true
This longed for fantasy.

Written September 2008
By Elisse Cook

Falling

Falling.
It should be easy. But it’s not.
Not when the reason you’re falling may not be falling back.
But what can you do? Nothing really.
You hope there’s something but…you’re not sure if there will be.
Or maybe there is…it just hasn’t been brought to light. You don’t know.
It’s hard not knowing, especially when you always do.
So you sit there and wait. And wait. And wait.
But…nothing.
Then, all of a sudden, there’s something.
Something great. Something magical. Something that makes you realize your hope was not false. You’re happy. You’re content. You’re safe.
Then just as quickly as there’s something, there’s nothing again.
Why?
Because it’s easy? Because there’s no fault? No expectations? No commitment?
No nothing.
But why?
Why not take the risk? Why not try?
And not just try, but really try.
Try to where you know you gave it your all.
Try to where you know whether it’s right or wrong.
That’s when a decision should be made – a conclusion met; an agreement.
But instead, there’s just falling.
Not the kind when there’s arms welcoming you.
Not the kind where you don’t care how hard the impact is.
The kind when you know you’re falling into nothing.
There are no arms.
There’s no impact.
There’s just nothing.
Nothing.
Nothing to fall into and nothing to do about it.
So you sit there and wait. And wait. And wait.
But…nothing.
Maybe the hope is false.
You’re happy but not as much as you could be.
You’re not content.
You don’t feel as safe.
You just feel empty.
You’re falling because you’re falling.
And the impact?
It’s hard. It’s really hard.
But not in the way you’re expecting or wanting.
It’s hard because you’re alone.
It sucks.
You wish you weren’t falling.
You try not to.
But you can’t stop…because you’re already in too deep.
And you can’t get out.
You wish you could freeze time.
Maybe then you’ll stop falling.
But then again, you’ll be stuck. Sitting in transit. Having nowhere to go.
Maybe you can try to climb.
So you try.
You think you’re getting higher.
Closer to being on your own two feet.
And right when you think you’re you again, you realize that you’ve been falling the whole time. 
Being on your feet is only a daydream.
Something countless shooting stars have tried to bail you out of.
But then you realize something.
You don’t want to get out.
You don’t want to stop falling.
Because even though it’s scary falling by yourself, you’re happy.
Because, for a moment, you realize that the reason you’re falling is a pretty good reason to be there. 
And it’s worth it.
So, so worth it.

Written May 2013
By Elisse Cook

Poetry is a love that I have had since high school. It was a way for me to find a simple object and make something beautiful out of it. For quite a few years, I found myself having no inspiration - and it was frustrating. But recently, I have been able to catch a little of that inspiration by the foot and I've been doing my best to not let it go.

It has always been a dream of mine to share some of my work and I hope you enjoy it!