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Oli Sep 15
well i could explain, but i dont really want to
i could try to convince you, but it's not in my best interest
so I'll keep it to myself, and nothing's gonna change that
it's the way that i feel, and i feel

i gotta work a little harder for it
i gotta walk,
i gotta walk

calling you, this bliss
orginal sin
Oli Aug 26
sad faced abuser, empathy aesthetic
reach out to you for a little bit of
empathy, catharsis
burned on the streets, the blacktop
black heat with the black mountains on top

quit hearing words, you can see so much better
quit taking notes, you're relieved of your methods
the things you could try, try
try and use against us
try and give a hand
between the both of mine, folded under
what's the point in any color now
red is nothing but so tired now
and we're all so tired
too tired to surrender

if we all go to sleep will we learn our next lesson
if we all go to sleep will it be something different
if I go to sleep will I be something other than weak, and broken
If I close my eyes will this cease
If I choose to eat will it prevent some disaster
If I live like
a woman
a person
If I live for me I can stop how it's spreading
taking care of yourself is revolutionary
Oli Jul 8
I love myself like this rest loves this blackness
I love myself like this ink loves this canvas
I love myself like the starving love the bulbs of tulips, like the blood heals the wounds, like the wicked love the prophet
I love myself
I love myself like this life loves the ever thinning thread
I love myself like this fate loves to tempt and be tempted
I love myself like this razor loves edges, like promises of tomorrow bleeding from shiny buildings and cherry blossom reflections
like the love in natural devastation and bare feet stood on the ever changing surface through heat, through rain, through the broken things climbing back up through cracks to breathe, to see
the love in their moans when they realize only you can feel this feeling
I love myself
I love myself through the perpetual edge of a flatline, dead weight ripping the fabric, fashion, fast lanes and dead time, dead skin and dead lines
Yeah, I have dead friends in low places
so I call this one "reanimation"
two headed reflection, what it's like to die and stay alive
I love myself because it's my only option
Today is my birthday.
Oli Jun 24
She is the queen of the ocean, the outed, the plastic bag pavilion
the saint of the sand below her
sustained by faulty beams of wood and lower case letters
She is the candle-lit scene, ashamed of **** things that roam inside her
She is pressed against your chest in rest, she is a rusted key, dropped to her knees, tending to your feet
She is the anchor in your fist, always afraid to fall asleep again, she is the stagger in the step of the witch
the orange light boasts its wings just behind her
And her loves, her loves will lead the cavalry
her loves will storm the halls, big or small, the caverns of history's birth will bleed and moan
and her loves will have returned with endless light to hold
Oli Jun 13
I feel a pain when I look inside houses,
lit like ****, cloth on the table
staring back 
I only ever lived in cheap apartments, and we moved somewhere new every few years
People grow up in houses, they come and go when they're older, they die in them 
My only experience being welcome in a house, a man I knew who's wife ended up dying in it
It was only weeks later when he took his own life in it
I'm afraid of houses, the implications of commitment, the familiarity, the comfort 
When the foundation becomes cancerous, 
These never ending thoughts of how your comfort can become a haunted house 

I'm so afraid of death.

I know I wrote that poem, last December, 
I said I no longer fear death 
Let me correct it
I no longer fear dying 
But I fear death
God, do I fear death

Sometimes, I like to believe I'm a superhero,
queen of dissociation, maybe 
My trauma, my dysphoria is nothing in the context of this...prophecy, plot armor, whatever it is keeping in line with the story
of who I am, where I came from, of how this pain truly meant something 
but if I abandon fiction to breathe uncertainty 
raise my arms in front of me, bracing 
where do I exist outside of me
written feb 13 2019
Oli Jun 13
blood leak low
empty glass on the hardwood floor
not sorry any more
thinly shaped
open shine
sickly frame
partly looming like branches like
like Rori
like laughter like
like Oli
like Oli
Oli Jun 9
if you see me staring at the cloud, that single static cloud that is draped around his small, dove grey shoulders
it's only enchantment
if you see me stalling, stoic, searching for the proper words to speak to such beauty, the stormless cheeks of her city
it's only dissociation
Cerberus, the sad song of love just past the edge of your gate
I don't have much left to sing
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