I have looked upon sainted kings,
Daring to look them in the eye,
Like I was their equal.
I have watched God cast Satan out of heaven,
The archangels chased him down,
And I was not unhinged.
I have watched Juliet pierce her heart,
Over her dead Romeo,
And only tears for dear old love were shed.
I have seen beauty, I have seen repulsion.
Blood spattered across palace floors,
Watched the ones I love stride away from me.
I have seen lies that have unravelled,
Like some Jacobean tragedy.
Not once have I cowered in the corner,
Or averted my eyes.
He says “Diamond, don’t be cut by your own dust”
As he throws her against the wall.
I’ve seen it all.
I’ve seen dead poets, half-starved and decaying,
Defeated by their own passion,
And I whispered “Misery’s your nom-de-plume” into the silence.
He hung off the bed, almost celestial,
Until you looked at his mouth (In case you were wondering:
Kissed too much by those who didn’t fuel the fire)
But I wasn’t frightened.
Grown men have threatened me with eyes like daggers,
Invisible fingers on my throat.
I’ve seen sticks and stones, breaking bones, and names that definitely hurt you.
But I’ve worn the experience on my sleeve,
I’ve never let it weaken me.
I’ve held shattered hearts in my hands as I try to fix them.
I’ve reached out to find my lover’s outline has gone cold.
I’ve seen Death, standing in the shadows, surveying the mess he left.
I’ve seen flame-haired girls, poised perfectly, but with paused tears,
Threatening to pour forth,
Because he’s in love with the idea of the muse rather than the muse herself.
I’ve seen obsession,
Oh, god, I’ve felt it. Clutching desperately onto his leg,
Dragging herself through the blood and guts of the earth.
I’ve watched boys carve “Lacrymosa” into broken skin,
Either their own or somebody else’s.
I’ve seen the fall of Man, the mouth of hell.
I’ve snapped out of hypnosis caused by ***** eyes.
I’ve seen the name of God drive lovers apart.
Bigoted, acid-flecked spit.
I’ve seen war.
I’ve seen peace.
You see, I’ve lived a life,
And I’ve been bruised before.

But I can’t even look at my own reflection,
Without cursing to some Almighty.
I can’t even stutter some words out,
That could bring me all I need.
Introspection….like a hole in the ******* head.
And yet, they come alive at night,
Telling me to reach out across the great divide,
***** my courage to the sticking place.
“And pray tell, Olivia, what are you so afraid of?”
Fear of the unknown.
Caution doesn’t crack hearts.
And progress report: Parasitical ugliness (please stop living on me),
That drives them away, besides.