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 Jun 13
Olivia Williams
Why do I cry?
Why do I feel sad?
Why do I feel worthless?
Why do I feel bad?

Why do I feel like,
I’ll never be enough?
Why do I feel,
I’ll never be tough?

Why do I think…
I’m brave enough?
Why do I think,
I can stand up,
For what’s right?
Why do I struggle,
With all the,
Simple things in life?

Why do I hate,
The thought,
Of being alone?
Why do I feel,
Like I’m stuck in a black hole?

Why do I fight back?
Why do I lie?
Why didn’t I protect myself…
That day i almost died?

All these “whys” inside my head.
All these questions,
Not answered.
Just left on “read”
Taking up space inside my brain.
Rent free,
Causing so much pain.

I still ask,
“Why.”
 Jun 13
Olivia Williams
Thorns.
Blood.
Scars.
Pain.

Bullying.
Rumors.
Love.
Hate.

Cries.
Begging.
Pleas,
For help.

No one is listening,
No way out.
Thorns stab,
Like knifes to skin.

How will I escape?
When I’m stuck in a body I don’t want…
With health issues,
I can’t take care of.
My body giving up on me,
And I Know I’m failing within.

Spreading pain.
Of those words,
That blood,
That day.
Cold tile floor.
Lies.
Thorns stabbed me then,
left an imprint on my soul.

So know I live my life,
Stuck in a web of pain,
Being punctured with thorns.
 Jun 12
Olivia Williams
Another year goes by,
Another year awaits.
What will each year be?
Well..I can’t stop thinking—
About all my mistakes.
All the times I lied,
I didn’t eat.
All the times,
I said I did my homework,
But I just procrastinated-
Accepted I’d never be good enough,
Accepted defeat.
I tried to hide myself within a disguise,
But how long will this last?
I guess I’ll have to wait,
As I have no choice.
Year after year,
Will keep going by.
 Jun 12
Olivia Williams
My stomach is a coffin,
Holding each meal.
Waiting to explode out of the casket,
Rejecting what my body needs the most.
My nausea is the funeral,
Coming like waves.
On a stormy day.
Locking me in for hours.
No escape.
My pain is the graveyard.
Bones and ghosts haunt my past
And hurt my future.
They yell and mock,
No matter what they talk.
My brain— the tears,
Running down my face like rain,
As my body feels like a knife plunging into me.
Late nights, and early mornings of shooting, stabbing pain
That won't give up for a second.
No avail.
I don't want to live with this pain,
This nausea,
The throwing up.
My demon mocks, “It got ya.”
The dizzy, and headaches,
The late nights, and early mornings,
The nightmares and flashbacks,
All the times I felt faint,
The time I fainted—
I don't want to live like this.
I need help to find a way.
Whether it's meds, appointments, or therapy,
As long as no one blames it all on something
Completely out of order.
I'm running into a border—
A wall,
A blockage.
I fall.
I trip.
I get shoved.
Will I fit in?
Into this place?
Will I make stupid mistakes?
Will I be betrayed?
Pain is something I don't take lightly.
I used to keep it hidden,
I used to use a mask.
But now that I'm open about it,
People think I'm attention-seeking
When I'm just trying to communicate,
When I don't know exactly how yet.
Sure—I've told lies,
I've made a disguise.
I'm trying to change.
I have made a mistake.
I'm human, I do that sometimes.
I'm willing to take responsibility for my actions.
I just need someone to listen.
Because I'm sick of living in a black hole,
Feeling like a knife is plunging into my stomach with each cramp,
Each sting.
The nausea is the other thing it brings.
I just need someone to listen.
And I need help with many things.
So many…
Like pain.
 Jun 12
Olivia Williams
Clinking metal,
Cold against bruised skin.
Hope lost,
No where within.
Strength gone,
They stole from me.
I try to escape,
But my chains,
Forever hold me.
Inch thick,
Cement wall,
Chain attached,
Ive hope for escape,
But mental—
physical pain,
Seems to,
Forever last.
Chains are what’s holding me back.
Regret,
Pain,
Shame.
“Im not worthy”
“I’ll never be perfect”
“I’ll never be loved”
“I’ll never be safe”
“Im scared to grow up”
“I’ve already lost my faith”
And yet I'm here,
I’m alive,
But why do I feel so empty?
The answer is these chains,
That hold me tight.
 Jun 11
Olivia Williams
“I need help”
I call
When I just keep seeming to fall
“I need strength”
I beg
To the world
When I’m sad
“I need a hug”
I beg
When I’m crying
Sometimes in shame
I need help
I need strength
I need love  
I need faith
I need hope
I need courage
I need help
Every day
To make it through the day
I need help with life
When it leads me
The wrong way
Into strife
I need help
When I take a wrong turn
I need help
This path I've been on
It’s been so
Wrong
It’s so long
It gets worse
When I fall
So I’m thankful
I can say
I need help
No matter where I am in life
No matter the path I take
I make mistakes
I fall
I cry
I take things for granted
But Im human
And every once in a while
I need help
 Jun 11
Olivia Williams
Yellow
a poem — by Olivia Williams
TW
———————
A trembling yellow rose,
fighting away pain from the past
Those who made fun,
Didn’t think she would last.

so bright,
so bold.
Despite bruises that go unknown,
Its petals are so soft, like silk — frayed and torn,
but itching to unfold.
Painted in yellow,
stories of the world,
yet to be told.
The color serenades a hopeful- eager tune,
of one where life
hasn't gone so wrong.


This quiet melody slowly swells like the tide
among these bruised valleys,
even echos dare not to make a peep
the melodies of laughter
For those who fueled pain
fill the silence,
piercing through– like glass to skin.
The color,
is pale, illuminating light.
that shines into a
sad, dark room.
casting pale sunlit patterns on my walls.

The color brings flowers-
happiness, and love—hour by hour.
Still this ticking clock… never-ever stops
How much can my body take?
before my internal clock shatters like glass,
After being hit by lightning on a rainy day?
Fragile glass shattered in fury, and pain
What happens then? Do I lose not only my time but my color?

Time.
Time by time,
again and again,
I stare out into the vast void,
stars scattered in a hazy night sky —
so full of life,
yet I'm haunted by that day
that I didn't fight.
I feel trapped
In a place I called safe
yet the world
has been so cruel.
It tore that to shreds,
Like paper ripped in half.


A building storm
Hail-force winds, black sky
lightning rumbles and thunder clatters
Tornado raging through
Belongings ripped out
My hope, strength, love, all spread about
That then get worse
It’s running this same course  
The storm ravages around, scouring the area on the prowl
like a tiger looking for a meal —
but I'm left for dead,
for this tiger
to take me away.
And I’m next.


The clouds cover these bruises with their own.
Deep crimson red and pig pink, illuminate the shattered ocean.
Of falling happy memories.
Rain lashing and bursting into the ground-like a hammer bursting into concrete.
thunder's roar stomps and shakes like the roar of an oncoming train.
I reach out—fingers grasping,
clawing at the rain-soaked dirt,
as I fall down the peak of the jagged torn cliff into the bubbling and boiling water.
This has stolen that yellow spark,
that joy, that happiness— fleeing like a criminal escaping away in the fog-filled night sky.
I try and try
to be my best.

Their words still sting like knives,
each digging and plunging into my back
as they further stack stones
’til I'm about to collapse.

This buried treasure.
underneath gravelly, torn mountains.
Bruised and battered, deep blues, purples and greens run together and fade into a dark shadowed nightmare where pain and images dance with cruel intent.
I have sure had my share of pain
I am a canvas of scars
Internal fire,
External gauges.
They didn’t ask if I could be “claimed”
I was forced to fit into their mold.
So I could survive those years,
That pain remained bold.


I'm not even sure my candle will last.
My color, it shines, it flickers on —
sometimes less than the rest,
but it will forever live on
in my heart of gold.


The sky is as blue as the sea.
The wind brushing my,
light brown hair,
against my face.
pale brown eyes scan the sea,
of the graveyard of those,
Who carved scars until I collapsed.
Like signatures etched into my spine.
all adrift among the bubbling sea
like splintered—discarded driftwood
from a dismantled ship.
From which I thought was home
They wail, plead, and call,
but I ignore their cries-
Tangled within sea foam,
And broken lies.
like they once did
when I was sinking
Underneath a horrid storm.

I stand on this ship,
Made from survivors like me.
Looking out into the sea,  
Hoping that one good person survived,
But all of them betrayed and hurt me.

I walk around this ruined ship,  
Wooden frame- weathered and cracked.
Broken glass and bottles cover the claustrophobic halls,
Planks of this wood are warped from time and pain.
Engraved is the blood of guilt and shame.
I hear them call- “PLEASE HELP, WE‘RE SORRY! ”
but they stole my trust the way they’d steal from the mall.
The sails hang in shreds of fabric, torn by storms of fear,
Open crevasses lead below deck,
Filled with rain, blood, glass, and a permanent echo of “what’s next?”
The hull groans and mumbles under the weight of the pain,
Of the shame— for not standing up straighter, than it thought it could handle.
The ship had finally crumpled, under the weight of the “betrayed” they were carrying.

I step off this ghost ship,
And run away from the cries and blood-curdling screams.
I’m not rescuing someone who pleaded and caused me to start drowning.
And I push on, so I can be who I want to be.

I will stand up,
let my rose unfold.
My petals will open
to a day of promise.
I just need time to gather,
to find a day where breathing,
Feels like a flower blooming on a spring day.
That glitter inside me —
the gold, dust, hope, and fire
Come together.
Rising within me
Trying to find power
Bursting through concrete
Like an earthquake does
So strong,
it unlocks the inside of the earth,
like a key.

The cold of pain had passed.
The sun will rise now.
I stand on this ship,
A new one called “hope”
New sails, new wood, new life, my future is still unknown,
on this very bow I stand, tall and strong.
And if I may,
I will let myself be brave,
be loved
be myself,
be unique,
be me.


This ship will lead me home.
The lighthouse beyond this sea.
full of those who remember,
—care about my name,
waiting to welcome home,
not who they thought I was
But the raw-real-new me.

Months slip by
And brush the sandy shore
The rocks have slowly faded
Leaving only a few more.
recovery blooms.
And I start to catch my breath
Knowing that pain will come
But I have to take care of myself
And I know I can.
Each new month shapes my fate.
I have a new rose, golden and yellow,
Fighting for life.
Frayed petals now healing,
From my past fate.
I will fight now like the flower,
Like the color in one.
Always- forever,
I will let myself be that flower- that sun.

I’ll fight the pull of happiness and pain
I’ll push against the days, where the pain is beckoning
I stand strong
I speak up
I will fight the ghosts,
the dreams.
my life.
And who I want to be.
I want to unfold my shadow
Stand in the sun.

I will love myself,
To infinity.
Even if that means,
I fall for a short time.
I am stronger than they all say.
I will always fight, here in healing is where I lay,
It is, and will always be,
a Yellow
kind of Day.
 Jun 11
Olivia Williams
Disguise- TW
A Poem by Olivia Williams
———-
I wear this mask,
It's my disguise,
It's my so-called "true person,"
But I have a secret—
It's hiding who I am.
I play on my smile,
Laugh around others.
When I'm asked to do something,
I have to gather myself together,
To put on the mask,
Heave a sigh,
Put on a smile,
And pretend I'm alright.
That day,
School dragged like chains,
And I lost my belief in whether the world was kind.
I was taught I'm worthless,
That my “type of people” didn’t belong.
So now, with my mask, I hide it all.
Afraid to trust anyone and everyone.
I do what I'm told,
I rarely falter,
Because when I do,
I feel like a disappointment.
Afterward,
I don't want people to see that I can't do it,
Because of how I gave up trying that day.
I over-explain every detail,
Because I had to do that to survive.
From what feels like not too long ago,
This mask hides me
And my personality,
Because I don't want to let it loose.
Only people I trust see the real me,
And even they
Don't see it all.
I have two sides,
Both are semi-hidden.
You only get to know
Half of each.
Once I can trust you,
You'll know both full versions of me.
I can be mean,
I can be rude,
I can be an "angel,"
Or sweet, or "look cute,"
But I can turn in a second
And snap right back.
If you push my buttons,
You'll find it out—
Exact.
I'm torn between both sides,
Of sticking up and speaking out for myself,
But I fear I will be rejected and pushed past my point,
And then I will be hurt more,
Physically and mentally,
Then I was before.
What if they don’t like the full version?
What if they don’t like the “real me”?
What if they push me, I fall,
They laugh,
And use me for their own greed?
If I show them my broken side,
Then they notice I need help,
But if I unleash everything,
Then I’m hurting them and myself.
I’m afraid to lose the people I’ve gathered,
Because they love me for who I am now.
But I can’t help but think,
“Will they after?”
I don’t think I will ever be able
To take off a FULL mask,
Because they will always want the “other side” as well.
And I don’t want my other person in me
To go too far and start to tell.
It gets exhausting keeping to half a side,
Not being on one full or both at the same time.
Each day gets heavier,
These chains weigh me down.
Keeping up both hidden sides,
Keeping up this lie,
The longer the sides dig deep inside,
The more I lose each portion,
Forever lost inside.
I hate keeping up
With certain places’ requirements.
I want to break the rules,
So they can learn
There are others out there.
Don’t you dare mess with me,
I’ve seen my share.
With this mask I hide in,
I see the inner secrets no one
Wants me to share.
I know everything,
And if you
So much as flinch and mess with me or my crowd,
You’ll see my other side of the mask,
And then
You won’t be so proud.
I’m sick of letting people push me in,
So now I’m pushing back,
And I’m not afraid to get in.
I hope you recognize
That I have other sides.
Most of my family
Doesn't know even one full side,
But I try to be the "perfect person,"
Because I can't take criticism.
I’ll just shut down.
That’s how I defended myself
When I couldn’t then.
I still can't know
I’m told to
“Be more,” “do more,”
“Be more like this.”
I try and try,
I’m so tired and worn.
I cry and fight
To be who I’m not,
Because I never feel right.
But now,
I’m hiding my mask,
Stronger than ever,
Waiting to unleash it
To those who push me.
I hid who I am,
My beliefs,
My identity,
What I like,
And what I don’t.
I act different per each person—
What side of me do you know?
But when I have on my disguises,
Which one don’t you know?
 Jun 11
Olivia Williams
(CONTENT WARNING!!!- BLOOD, VIOLENCE, DEATH, SENSITIVE TOPICS- ONLY FOR MATURE AUDIENCES)

MY BATTLEGROUND
A Poem, By Olivia Williams
Nights draw long.
The clock ticks slow.
So slow, the seconds snap thin like rubber bands.
Each snap feels like a weight of remembrance; eventually, it has started to take a toll.
While each minute drags like forever eternity,
As if eternity is even bothered by the pain.
My heart beats fast,
As visions grow.
The pain inclines.
Then the shadow man comes, and will never seem to go,
Drenched in blood,
Hollow eyes staring everywhere.
The tint of vengeance,
Of revenge,
Of horror.
The night,
His shadow,
Long and stretched,
Like a long blood-filled river,
This fate
That led me
ALMOST TO DEATH.
That night,
The man,
His cold presence
Turning me away,
Metallic smell
And taste
Filling my body,
Making me gag
In fear.
His eyes,
Still blood red,
That chase with a ****** knife,
Coated in others' mess,
Of others, he's ruined.
I think he’s…
Looking for me next,
As he pierces the knife
One by one.
The silence
Envelopes me,
The guilt,
Of chains,
Cold metal against bruised skin,
Clinking, against a solid white-concrete wall,
Locked in all white, nothing left for me to have.
Smell of must and smoke.
Chains of shame,
For trying to speak out but failed.
When I should have kept quiet,
So I'm not a burden,
Even though
I could have survived if I spoke.
I still want to scream,
But I'm caught in a web of…
“I should have spoken.”
“I should have stopped it.”
“I could have fixed this.”
“I could have protected myself.”
“Now I'm hurting the people I love….”
Yet I'm being pulled down by
Each outspoken recommendation,
Like I'm stuck in quicksand
With no escape.
Yet again,
He mocks,
Shames,
Yells,
Blames,
And buckles
Restraints.
I'm stuck
In these chains.
They hold me down…
Too well.
And they rattle and shake,
Bringing not only pain
But a reminder
Of the freedom
Never felt.
The rocks
He heaves
Onto my shoulders.
Never free.
The struggle
Of guilt.
I didn't fight back
When I should have.
Maybe I wouldn't
Have to deal with the
Internal pain now.
The weight,
I fall
As I'm tripped.
I call
In fear,
Thinking I'm about to be hit.
I yell,
Trying to get revenge.
The pain
Had taken control with guilt
Of sharing these thoughts.
“Am I… to blame?”
My friends,
They help
And sometimes
Distract,
But never for long,
As they disappear
On their path.
It's not fair,
I swear,
I fight,
But cry.
I punch,
I will try.
“NO!” he yells
And kicks me away.
I guess I'll never grow my wings and fly away.
I can only dream
Of a gorgeous escape.
The man,
His blood,
That taint
And taste
Will pull me back
To this loop of pain,
From this ****** nightmare.
I'm drowning
In my thoughts,
The whirl
Of a storm brewing,
Out of control.
Pain is like waves
Stabbing into the rocky shore
Where boats of hope crash
And are pummeled apart.
Wooden remains, on a decaying beach
Sand no longer there, trees laying face-down
Past repair.
The voices of survivors echo,
Asking for help,
But the wounds are so deep,
Gashes gaping and flowing,
A deep crimson and rose-red
Fill the once vibrant water.
The blood—
That's so thick,
I never hear their cries,
As their boats sink too,
And their lifeless bodies take the last dive into the waves before smashing into the rocky shore.
And the empty silence fills my mind of memories that I don't want to re-live.
But the blood covering this sea of people—and me,
Is taking control.
My breath feels heavy,
As if water and blood were pulling me down.
The flashbacks,
The fear that wraps and claws further and further to my throat,
Tightening with every vision that comes to light.
Will I ever get out?
I yell,
But all he does is laugh and say,
“NO!!!”
This blood,
The stain,
Both in life,
Forever
Engrained
In my memory,
Like a cracked mirror, broken pieces.
Glass in my feet,
Each shard, each bit
Representing broken hopes and thousands of mistakes I wish I could undo.
Of that fate
I was left
When no one has listened.
I tried to tell them,
But they all denied
The evidence,
Right there.
Especially those bruises.
The pain of laying there,
My own blood
Passing out,
Waking up,
No one caring that I was there,
No one noticing, that I needed help,
And that this has become my life because of this all.
With constant
24/7 battle
Of that knife,
That chase,
My blood,
The screams
Of others he chases.
A mix between THAT day and dream.
My battleground,
My life,
Has become a gruesome fight.
I don't know when the knife man will take me,
But on the battleground,
Trying to protect,
That is where I'll fall.
On the battleground,
For sure,
Is where
If anything,
I've lived through it all.
No matter what,
I will always fall,
But through it all,
I will always breathe.
Even if it's a struggle,
NEVER a relief.
I wish I could defy,
But for now, I will…
Try to fight
For my life
On this battleground,
With blood and mistakes,
That's just open
To take.
But even in the darkness,
That always holds when I'm suffocated
With rooms so dimly lit that just a flicker is left.
That flicker of hope is all that's left to hold everything back,
The darkness claws and grabs
At every chance to reach me, I hold on tight.
Even if so,
I will continue to breathe.
My breath will never stop,
EVER.
And at all.
When I return back,
My mind says “It's all a dream,”
But it happened, I have scars and damage for proof… and I know I'm just getting flashbacks
Because of THAT day, I hope one day I won't have to look the man in his eyes,
But for now… all I can do is… FIGHT.
 Jun 11
Olivia Williams
The Attack- TW- HEALTH ISSUES-
A poem by Olivia Williams
—————————
That Thursday,
my legs met the floor.
A thump echoed in the elevator—
I couldn’t stand, any longer.
I barely remember.
One moment, I felt like I was going to pass out.
The next—
the floor met my exhausted body,
as my feet succumbed to gravity,
like a rock sinking into deep water.
My arms went limp.
My body went numb.
My brain felt like it was colliding into a wall—
or like someone was banging on it
like a drum.
Like strings were cut,
nerves were severed,
the ones that told my body:
"Work, or you're a coward!"
Everything from my neck down
forgot who was in control.
My body forgot who it was connected to—
it had a mind of its own.
I have reflux
Anemia too
I get attacks frequently
They literally knock me down
So DONT play me for a fool
My fingers felt cold,
turning to frost.
My lips were chapped and dry,
a crevasse so deep,
I couldn’t deny.
I was a ghost slowly lying there—
until a chair came.
Sight slipped away
as I was wheeled the other way.
First blurry—then gone.
My hearing too.
Like a blackout curtain appeared,
and I couldn’t tell who was who.
These voices I recognized—warped,
like they were underwater.
My breath was a battle.
My lungs begged for air,
but it refused to enter.
And the air I had
escaped faster than I could hold it.
Like a hammer on a locked door—
sealed shut—
I couldn’t get out
of the cave I was in.
Water was filling my body.
I lost all sense of time
inside that darkness.
They asked me,
“Stay awake.”
But I wasn’t there.
I couldn’t hear—see—or reply.
All of that
had been stripped from me there.
I entered the office,
heard— the concerned voices,
the mumbles saying:
“You need to take care of yourself.”
“You need to eat.”
“But I throw it all up,” I say.
“So my body makes it to this point.”
The lights were too bright,
filling my grey void.
Then—
everything came back.
I heard my own voice.
Then a voice I recognized entered the room.
She looked at me and asked questions,
but she knew
I couldn’t speak yet.
Because my body felt like
I was swimming through glue.
I was on the edge of fainting,
on the edge of life.
Food and water made a thump beside me.
I fumbled it open—
took one bite,
then another,
and another—
waiting for my body to recharge.
Like a dead battery.
I don’t remember what it was.
It didn’t taste good—
but I didn’t care.
I just ate, and hoped
my body would spare.
I cried,
knowing my body had failed me
in front of everyone.
Not from pain.
There was no scream,
no giant collapse—
just a person
sliding to the ground
in an elevator,
trying to get help
before fading away.
This isn’t weakness.
Or drama.
This is war,
with no warning.
This is fighting
with no rules.
I fight for life every day.
I’m told,
“You don’t have much on your plate.”
But surviving is my chore.
Life is a game.
I played the wrong cards.
I forgot to eat and drink—
because my body forgot to tell me how.
It made me ***** it back.
So this is what I get.
This is surviving
in silence,
day by day,
hour by hour.
This is an attack.
 Jun 11
Olivia Williams
I WATCH
A Poem- TW -HEALTH ISSUES-
—————
I watch myself
From across the room.
My heart beats fast.
My brain spins.
My body feels
Like it’s tingling,
Like it’s truly not there.
I watch myself
Do things that aren’t me.
My hand moves
As if I turned an unknown key.
My mouth speaks words
I sometimes don’t know.
I constantly feel like I’m in a hazy fog,
In a world of the unknown.
I feel dizzy,
And suddenly, time stops.
I try to move,
But nothing works.
I try to make eye contact,
But my vision is blurred.
People’s words drown out,
The world goes silent.
I feel unheard.
Then everything comes rushing back,
Like bubbles coming to the surface.
I continue with what was said before,
Not realizing everyone’s staring at me weird.
I’m confused, but they don’t say a thing,
And I continue as normal,
Not sure what happened.
I have panic attacks.
After each one,
I feel like my body is going to explode.
My head pounds hard.
My heart beats fast.
My body shakes uncontrollably.
It always seems to last.
I still don’t feel okay,
But it’s an everyday thing.
I feel out of my body,
Like a ghost turned to dust,
Like I’m watching myself perform tasks
That I’m pretty sure I’m not.
Many times,
I feel as if I’m out of my body,
Or like I’m spacing out
And losing my memory.
I’m unsure of why,
But my body feels like a crumbling brick wall
That gets built up and knocked down.
It’s wall after wall,
Never that strong.
I still watch,
I still wait,
As my vision dims again,
And words are incoherent,
Like I’m drowned out by the noise of a freight train.
I scream in silence,
As my body falls asleep.
My eyes feel like rocks,
Sinking to the bottom of a sandy reef.
I will always watch,
And watch,
As time goes on.
I’m glad my friends understand,
But I’m contemplating
If something is wrong.
And yet, I will
Watch.

— The End —