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Olivia Greene Jun 2015
the monday was, as any mondays are, unexpected and unenthused with the weekend past
i had begun talking to a girl whom i met through mutual friends who frequent our neighborhood coffee shop
we decided to meet at a hookah place notoriously named after our cities zip code; it seemed our small but mighty home was trying to make a name for itself
i had not given her much thought for doing so would cause my knees to weaken and my stomach to churn
but we sat down, ordered our concoction of tobacco and talked about the things we always talked about
amidst a mixture of light conversation laced with slight boredom and tobacco poisoning, she arrived, nonchalantly
towards the end of our visit to hookah 402 I grew weary of another night spent in a mediocre way
it never made sense to me how such interesting people could find so little to do
maybe it was laziness, i don't know
she asked us where we want our night to go and how we wanted it to go
two questions i have asked my friends but have never been able to reach a conclusion or a satisfying end result
furthermore, we got into kaylas car, our first destination was a coffee shop, as it usually is
we got our coffee and decided to use my fake id and get alcohol from a liquor store in north omaha
while i may not have been nervous on the way there, our conversations distracting me from the possibility of receiving a felony, my heart picked up speed when i handed the cashier my fake
we got the alcohol and drove to the nearest gas station for a chaser
while she was in the gas station an elderly man approached our car, immediately putting his shoulders to his jawline in defense
he told us his name, even showed us where it was tatted on his arm, and asked us to drive him to his sister, whose car had just broke down
i guarantee that if she had not been with us, we would have said no, apologetically but fearful of saying yes
however, she was with us,
and with her attitude of all-encompassing love, we said yes and he got in the car
almost automatically the stranger and her began singing a beautiful duet
  Apr 2015 Olivia Greene
on saturday I bought myself a dress
and you bought yourself more time
in my head
Olivia Greene Apr 2015
Words used to electrify my mind
they used to carry me into a dreamfilied state,
one of hope

I don't look up words in the dictionary anymore
I don't write about my experience with a man or woman the morning after

I don't

Why can't I
Olivia Greene Apr 2015
I woke up from a nap, naively remembering I wasn't home
I woke up from two nightmares, so blindingly ridden with meaning

I woke up alone and warm
I woke up afraid and cold

I rose from my bed with my sweater around me

I enjoy our correspondence
I don't respond

I like you
I do
Olivia Greene Apr 2015
"what about the beach?", the grandpa asked the grandson
the small boy with wide eyes looked up at this man, his eyes clearer than the elder had seen in years
the grandson had asked the grandpa to take him to the beach that day, just a few miles from the house, so he could watch the thing he loved most at that courageous, carefree age
"not today, im sorry. maybe next time you come and visit. the birds will still be there, then", he said, tirelessly
and so the little boy scooted off his lap and the grandpa sat in his chair, long after the little boy had gone to bed
he asked himself the question he had just asked
and found no reply
Olivia Greene Apr 2015
I didn't expect this from you
ironically, it seems I say that a lot about you
I didn't expect for our veins to disconnect
I really didn't want to feel that
I did not foresee the change that would summon
new feelings with other people and diminish mine towards you
I never imagined my arm pulling away when it gently touched yours
I don't have experience in love... except, that word comes with so much and so little meaning im not sure how to define it
What I did have experience in, however, was wishing, every day, every evening
that something would come of it
that I would be okay to really feel what I felt towards you

The little that amounted meant so much and yet so little

And now I feel like that poet who drones on about that unrequited love, and phrases it in ways he or she believes to be original

Pessimistic much?

But before I end this poem I would like to say that I love  you and I loved you and a part of me is relieved that I stopped
Olivia Greene Apr 2015
I awoke to the realization that today was my nineteenth birthday
I laid there for a moment recalling how I felt when I awoke on my eighteenth birthday
Nothing felt out of place,
nothing in the air had been charged,
and nothing in the air begged me to inhale it more graciously, as if my ascent to real adulthood required more oxygen
As one does upon their birthday, I reflected upon the previous year
I ruminated on the places I'd seen-
lakes of the midwest, dark hallways with strangers I was supposed to know, funeral homes I wished didn't exist
The places I'd waited-
the concrete carpet with friends for our favorite band, the stoplight of a town 400 miles from home, and calmly on a bench to call off a relationship with a guy I had just met
The people with whom I'd shared my voice-
fellow feminists, 5 year olds with autism who just wanted a piggy back and a hand to steady them on the hiking path,
my dad, finally
The places I hid my voice-
my brother's fraternity, a breakup text dripping with humor
I dwelled for a brief second on the men and women I had exchanged my touch with,
and with whom I had woken up without
As I flipped on my stomach
I could feel my swollen brain, gorged with knowledge, begging me to do something with it
I looked at the polaroids I had hung above my bed
and comfortably remembered the unrequited love
I had come to halting terms with, but now rested with like cozy pillow under my stomach
I looked at the faces of  friends whom I would now consider long distant friends. I wasn't sure if things would settle with them in the same way they had for 3 sensational months of summer
I shuddered at the toxins I had so willingly placed in my body,
pills, alcohol, drugs, unnecessary self-criticisms
I considered my weight-
a number that had risen and fallen due to over-eatting on the weekends and the daily under-eatting to compensate for the liquid sugar from the night before
I saw pictures of my hair, a foot longer than it is now and considered all I had put it through
I thought about my brothers
I wondered what they were thinking about when they woke up one year older
I do not feel older, I do not feel wiser.
I feel fine.
I am nineteen and I feel fine.
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