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Jun 2015 · 723
Letters
Holly O'Brien Jun 2015
I like letters because the act of letter writing involves dedicating my time,
And you have received 2 of the 4 letters written of mine,
2/4 is 50%, and 50 percent's majority.

If we were in business together you'd have 50% of the company,
And majority rules, you see.

But in this case I'm only tenaciously in love with you,
So you receive 50% percent of my time, 50% of my attention, and 50% percent of my heart,
the majority of my equity.

I never gave you the remaining 50%,
But you did steal it from the start,
Love of my life, you own my only heart
not sure why i chose business analogies to express my love but
Jun 2015 · 1.1k
The Beauty In The Struggle
Holly O'Brien Jun 2015
I look out dead in the eyes and strangers are all I see
I wonder if they know my struggle, have they seen what I've seen?
And I promise I don't mean to be mean but
I got life in my grips and doom is screaming don't you dare slip
No I don't mean to be mean but it's better than being seen

And her smile makes me feel like I'm young again
Like I haven't been holding the world on my shoulders
Like I haven't stared death square in the eyes
Like I haven't tried to say goodbye so many times

Yeah life can get ugly, but what is it trying to tell you?
Cause it'll keep throwing punches until it gets through
Don't talk about my mother and no I'm not my father
I try my best I wanna be nothing like them
I step right and keep treading, trying to get farther.
Lessons learned and merits earned, I finally find what it takes

And some days
I just hold onto hope of operating at that same frequency
See, I've fighting to be free on the daily
I fight for what I love, no I don't love to fight
But on a warriors brain is the pleasure in the pain,
The beauty in the struggle,
No one battles in vain

And when I feel like I can't fight anymore
It's the opportunities that come knocking
You don't grow stronger unless you strain
Life won't get brighter without a little rain

So I'll dance in the rain
And smile through the strain
Until I leave this place
Feel the breeze on my face
As I walk off the pain
For miles and miles
It's the beauty in the struggle
Jun 2015 · 671
The Sick Scientist
Holly O'Brien Jun 2015
I wonder if the answer is in the formulas and theorems that the world has held since the beginning of time
If the limit approaches Gods thrown on high
The limit does not exist for His love of man kind

And I've wondered how deep the oceans are,
does it have any correlation to the peace in Your heart?
Divers found coral 10,000 years old,
That's only a fraction of the value for the love you have for me, I'm told

And speaking of value, if I could continue,
Thank you for her kindness
And my mothers strength
And my brothers keen mind
I've wondered what it's like to clay and craft
And how You could create so much beauty
In each and every person, from first to last,

They say you're the first and the last,
And God I never stopped wondering,
How you knew the moment that I would choose to be my last,
And why you chose to save my life when you knew I had no interest in making you my master
And why the years have gotten better but now time only goes faster and faster

When the sparkle and gleam fades from my eyes
Because my neurons don't fire quite right
And my burdens have taken their toll,
Remember I wouldn't walk so heavy if my head wasn't a fight
And my father left a permanent scar on my heart
I know he didn't mean it but he tore our family apart
God, did you know this would all happen from the very start?
My favorite lines for 8 years have been What can I do? How can I help?
But now it's just, How do I play this part?

Love me gentle love me kind
Love me love me make me remember
Love me love me make me pure of mind

My psychiatrist told me when I was 11 years old  my serotonin levels were too low
Okay, I understand my neurons don't fire quite right
I'll take my medicine. I know, I'll be alright,
But then doctor why am I kept up at night?
Why do I explode and turn everything into a fight?
Why can't I see clearly or do what is right?
Will you help me to see
Help me to be me
My strength doesn't run endlessly
Oh God, help me to be
Holly O'Brien Nov 2014
I have this really bad attitude
And by attitude I mean I will be whoever you want me to be
To get you to notice me because I really
really
Love you- I mean like you- I mean I barely even know you.. honestly--
But I imagine all of these surreal nights of dark greens and blues and kicking off our shoes and crawling into bed and folding into each other, layer after layer,
I concoct all of these silly soliloquies of how I adore you, and all of the ways I will show I care like taking on the world together and playing with your hair
And it makes no sense because I have only known that you exist for maybe 2 months But it's a nice break for my mind to create a shrine of you and replay moments over
and over

Instead of constantly poking and prodding at all of my own little discrepancies
and flaws in my brain chemistries
and thoughts of jumping off third floor balconies

Please
Don't take me seriously
Because I know that I don't know how all of this is supposed to be
I watched my father chase after women who only made him feel inadequate
And I watched my mother only crave men who buy her fancy dinners then scream at her until she did what they told her to

They're both dependent on other people to make them feel like life is worth living
I might be dependent
I won't allow myself close enough to anyone to find out
So I guess it's a good thing that i definitely don't love you, I don't like you, honestly, I barely even know you
Holly O'Brien Sep 2014
19 years,
4 boys,
2 girls,
Heartache after heartache,
The process doesn’t change,
It doesn’t become less demanding with age,
If anything, it becomes only more methodical,

In the way that a surgeon analyzes and studies his procedure before operating within a breathing, organic creature,
Or how a jazz bassist finger plucks melancholic yet beautiful riffs made of memorized scales,
With practice, I have learned something of a system to heart break, and interestingly enough it always starts with me, it never starts with you,

5pm. You don’t break up with me, I always break up with you. I lay in bed for hours, struggling to match up the phrases “meant to be” and “not this time” in ways that are gracious and kind.

7pm. I communicate my best self to you, I tell you I love you and oh, the potential I saw. I say everything I need to say, it's a courtesy to you and a necessity to me. You’re cold to me, I’m still hot for you; it burns me up inside until I choke on my “maybe some days” and “what ifs”. You’ll find someone new.

8pm. I can’t move my legs and my stomach is weak, my heart fails within me and my eyes are so meek. I search for solitude, this is the moment when the only thing I know how to do is follow my feet.
I retreat to the streets.

9pm. This is the second hardest part. Let the pain spread and seep into every vein. In the words of John Greene, it demands to be felt. I debate myself that no one should feel such pleasure from love without knowing the searing anguish of loss.

10pm. I cry out to God and weep into my friend’s teeshirt as thunder crackles around us. If you don’t let it out, you won’t let it go. My ribs snap open from explosions of emotions.

12am. Feverishly angry, unhinged with pride; I will foolishly convince myself that you meant nothing to me, though in this moment i am anything but dispassionate. Accusations, assumptions, confrontations. Gain perspective, but only the kind that convinces me of myself. Compartmentalize it.

2am. I’ll distract myself with something, anything to pass the time. I’ll go out at night, a little excitement, a little bit of drugs, a lot of adrenaline, might just set my brain chemistry balanced and my crooked jaw straight.

5am. I’ll come home, satisfied with myself. Crawl back into my bed where I began the night and think, oh if only you could see me now, i have definitely won.

6am. This is the hardest part. The sun rises along with my guilt and inhibitions. I could NEVER say those things to you during the day that I spewed out like kerosene during the night.
I want to call you baby, tell you I’m sorry, but I’ve lost that right.
So I will combust from my own words and actions, set fire to my excuses and torch down my pride.

I want to whisper good morning to you, because I’ve learned the mornings are made to fix things, to start fresh, and become new.
My father had an anthem for me that rung “Holly, you’re not a bad person, you just make bad decisions. You can always try again in the morning.”
Well, it is the morning and I want so bad to try again.

In how many different languages can i try to explain that I don’t know how to give it up,
Or how to let someone go that was never mine to begin with?
I’ll just replay you walking through the invisible door in my mind until I take the hint.

Then I’ll sleep the day away so I can wake up, sobered up, numbed up, a few hours later.
Remind myself that my mother taught me to allow only one night for despair and tantrums.
She says life goes on and so should I, she couldn’t bear to see me defeated or crushed.

So I’ll force myself out of bed, shower, shake it off, lock it up.
I’ll move on because love is not without pain, life is not without burden, courage is not without fear,
And people are always worth taking chances on, even though the last chance I took never healed.

I know that there will be other nights when I think about 4 boys and 2 girls,
But those times, I’ll drift to sleep without saying goodnight, and have forgotten about it before the break of morning light.
Jan 2014 · 530
The movement is love
Holly O'Brien Jan 2014
I want to love,
Unconditionally.
I want to love,
Uncontrollably.

Loving others deeply to show what the cross means to me.
Love and the gospel do not live separately,
they are rooted in the same rock, they are a vine from the same tree.

And I want to show what Jesus has done for me.
Even though there is S I N written across my face,
When you look upon me, because of that cross, you will only see G R A C E.

A true love like His, when He cried out, "Father, forgive them for they know not what they do".
Jesus, give me your eyes and teach me how to love like You.

I want to love,
Unconditionally.
I want to love,
Uncontrollably.
Holly O'Brien Jan 2014
Those cuts on your wrist,

They don't let the demons out,
They let them in.

And when you say you don't need to be saved,
I know that's just your burden talking.

Because when I'm with you,
I can see you crave life,
I can see you crave love,

So I'm begging you to stop pouring out the blood that pumps directly from your heart.
Doesn't your love grow out of the same spot? Are you leaking out some of that precious substance too?
I'm begging you to stop slicing your skin, still tender and young, and dripping out all of the life that you have left.
Your life is not a poison to be ****** out of the veins. It is a gift, won't you cherish it and preserve it until your real last breath?    

So please, keep your veins sealed,
keep the blood, the love, the life in.

Open up your heart instead, let me talk to you, let her caress you, let God embrace you.
Open up your mouth instead, say a prayer, and finally let the real healing begin.
I wrote this for a dear friend.
Jan 2014 · 634
I'm Sorry- to my Rock
Holly O'Brien Jan 2014
Sometimes I am unstoppable.
Sometimes I am so easily defeated.

I know that I try but I am no hero,
that's for sure.
I know that I run  before I can walk,
let alone stand still.

And I have seen very simple men have a firmer stance in sand,
than I have on rocks.
this is my favorite poem that i have written thus far.
Jan 2014 · 2.0k
A Testimony
Holly O'Brien Jan 2014
Who am I?
Who am I?
A rebel? A hero?
A monster with blood and bones?
Not one of these things.
A little lion girl, maimed and alone.
A coward, needy and ashamed,
A girl trapped in darkness, begging for a light,
But all she could manage were stumbles through the night.

In the midst of it all, the struggle and fall, I felt my legs give out,
Weak and worn out, I lay in the pit.
For what shall I fight for? This hell? This ****?
Many gathered around and yelled 'you can't quit',
They rattled but could not touch, could not help, for they too are sick.

I heard a gentler voice in the crowd, and I wanted to answer,
But dropped my head in the mud,
With every effort, the pain just grows tenser.

In my heart,  I asked "Who are You?", "Where have You been?" I spat.
Still, You called my name, and cleared the brush and pitfalls so I could get up and walk back,
But I was trapped in a pit,  I was ashamed, without a thought, I sent You away,

Still, You came closer and knelt down to my level so that we were face to face,
"What are You doing?" I bitterly noted, when I saw that You reached for me,
I then swatted your hand and said, "No one tends to these scars, it's too much of a demand".
But you replied; "Not for me, I heal every wound with My love and My own right hand."
So I just sighed and gave into His embrace, what did I have to lose?

With Your hands on my back You picked me up,
You took my feet and set them on a rock,
You breathed into my heart and for the first time, I felt life,
You touched my eyes with your finger, and I saw heaven on earth,
You whispered to my mind, "You can trust Me, Holly.  I am the way the truth and the light"

And in that very moment I knew, I was reborn with the Son,
I walked to the mirror and saw a new reflection, a brave face with purpose,
A lioness who may inherent all of His kingdom under the sun,

And so, this is the end of a testimony, I run down a new road now,
With my hand in God's hand and a smile on my face remembering His first embrace,
Wherever I travel, even in the valley of the shadow of death, I keep a hand stretched out and a heart of trust,
Because My Lord never fails, and already He has conquered all things for us.

And now You're here,
My heart is at rest,
You crushed  my fears.
My life is blessed.
I found the savior,
Praise Jesus Christ.

I will serve you, great God,
For the rest of my days.
For what life can become,
Living for Amazing Grace!

Till kingdom come,
Till kingdom come,
Glory in the highest,
I lift up all praise,
I will love You forever,
My Lord and His Son.
Written about a year and a half ago. It was meant to be spoken out loud, there's a certain cadence I have in my head. Regardless, these are the words.

— The End —