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olivia go  Jun 2014
pdx
olivia go Jun 2014
pdx
Coffee stains and cigarette butts
I've found good company on the frame of a couch.
Everyone else sleeps while I reach the bottom of my broken mug.
It's funny how often I find myself at the bottom.
It's rainy in Portland.
Just as expected.
There's a girl much more beautiful than me
Half asleep
Half dead
Dying
In between sheets of complacency.
She is delicate and sometimes
I worry that her cotton sheets will scrape the skin right off her bones. .
I've waited three days for the sky to stop leaking,
I've waited three days for the clouds to mend themselves like I've had to my entire life
But no amount of brushing under the rug will suffice this time.
I think about where I am
And how these hands belong to me.
They're small and rough and
They've touched too many things.
I am nowhere and the tiniest accident.
I think about the planets and I think about the dead stars stuck underneath my skin
Waiting to break the thick surface
And reach other galaxies.
I get carried away and slip into Jupiter,
It's red storms and galactic dust burying me beneath mountains star things just like me.
There is a girl much more beautiful than me
Half asleep
Half dead
Dying
In between sheets of complacency.
She talks about losing her belly button
And the secrets I have to keep.
From Portland.
Zero Nine Nov 2017
Sad songs had their place
In the coming of age,
My songs sound the same
The sound, blase
Sad songs had their place
In the coming of age,
My songs sound the same
My songs are blase.

The answers I need, who do I ask?
Where's my fire?
Where's my immediacy?

The roof is overhead.
The walls surround my bed.
Food in the fridge.
Necessary electricity.

The ends I seek, where do I ask?
Where's my fire?
Where's my face in smoke and mirror?

Sad songs had their place
In the coming of age,
My songs sound the same
My songs are blase.

Where's my face in smoke and mirror?
Where's my face in smoke and mirror?
The End
A Simillacrum  Mar 2019
PDX Queer
A Simillacrum Mar 2019
The body positive aren't *** positive.
The *** positive aren't body positive.
Portland, I'm learning my lesson.
You're the city that gives no *****.

What about me, then?
Thirty years at home. No comfort.
My city, what about me?
Thirty years my home, no comfort.

The body positive aren't ******.
The ****** aren't body positive.
Portland, I'm positively down.
What lesson is this supposed to teach me?

Get fit and fall in line,
Get fit and wash my mind,
Get fit and fall in line,
Get fit and wash my mind,

My type wasn't meant to live,
When we do, we tend to live like this.
(repeat)
olu  Oct 23
PDX
olu Oct 23
PDX
i left so soon

i wonder if i’ll ever get to see you again


i didn’t even see you that night,
but when i met you in that other place,
i didn’t even realise,
what had come over me.

i didn’t even see you that night,
but i thought in that other space,
as wanton boys to flies-
what are you to me?

who are we to be?
i struggle to agnise,
and find any pace,
with lack of sight.

who you are to me,
either my demise,
or a romantic ace,
i’ll just think tonight.

there wasn’t much time anyway
not that first day
or the second day
we knew i had to go away

but part of me was praying
what you were saying
is what i was saying
because there was no staying

we had to go
and now i know
i hope you know
but do you though

and as i ponder
and i wander
and as you wander
i hope we grow fonder

maybe it won’t be where we met,
it could be back in that spot,
it could be where i know you are,
i just hope we meet again.

maybe it won’t be where we met,

it could be where i was when you were gone,
or it could be that you’d look for me where i am just for me to be away,
or maybe we’d find a new place where we’d be delightfully surprised to see each other again,
or maybe it’s not meant to be and we’re not meant to find each other.

maybe i’m just crazy,

i could be lost in emotion trying to claw my way out of hopelessness,
or i could be delusional and hoping for too much from nothing,
or maybe i can sense the feeling from you these many miles away,
or maybe i’m alone in feeling.

because i didn’t even get to see you that night,
i found you in a place i didn’t expect,
i’m not even sure if you found me.

i don’t know if you still think of me,
maybe it’s wrong because of the time and place,
because i didn’t even get to see you that night.

i didn’t even get to see you in that place;
you weren’t at home.

and i was a traveller too;
i wasn’t at home.

what i hoped to find,
i found elsewhere,
in a different place,
in another world.

i still found you there,
it’s not the same,
it’s a different place,
it’s not my home.

i hoped we could talk,
maybe we could reconcile,
but as i walk,
it may not be worth our while.

unless it’s fate to meet in that place,
i move along to another space.

the thought runs through my mind,
and hope as well,
that i can find,
and i can tell,

that person i met elsewhere that i’m sorry,
i’m sorry i left so soon,
and i’m sorry that i found you elsewhere.

i hope that i find you home,
i hope that it’s not too late,
and i hope that you’re still there.

i didn’t even see you that night,
i hope that next time you’ll be there,
instead of some other place.

instead of some other place,
please be there,
because that night,


i left so soon

i wonder if i’ll ever get to see you again

— The End —