Olga's Poetry & Thoughts

Dear Simon, I'm writing this letter to you because I miss you dearly. It seems like only yesterday we were swimming in the creek by the estate, and you commented how my skin glows so deliciously in the sun. But you left me, and that was your choice. Now I'm stranded in this massive villa all alone, with just my echoes as company. I won't dwell on this point too much and guilt you, for I know your abandonment must be weighing heavy on your heart. I'm also writing to tell you about my recent afflictions, as I have no one else who will listen. Roughly six months ago, I began to develop a case of insomnia. Normally my eyelids would flutter closed at no later than midnight, but recently I haven't been able to sleep until three or four o'clock in the morning. When I do manage to fall asleep, the quality of rest is abysmal, filled with short nightmares and night sweats. Laura, our maid, and Helga, the cook, don't sleep in the house, of course, for they have t...

I'll see you in my dreams For we've got no place else to meet Except in this one-sided fantasy Oh, a reverie so sweet I'll see you when you sleep For you're invisible when I rise Like a ghost, a lonely ghost Too shy to see with my own eyes I'll see you in the hereafter I'll see you in Armageddon I'll see you on Judgment Day I'll see you when the sun's setting Now, shush, I'll let you sleep In your cozy, little coffin Your lullaby is the night sky And the trees that moan so often I'll see you in my dreams When you visit me at night Our hearts will glow so bright Because, I know You're so afraid of the night

It's that time of night, either 11 or 2, When I start to get the headboard blues There's nothing more awkward, we can agree Than hearing your neighbour in ecstasy I'd rather be woken to birds in their nest Than a pursuant "yes, yes, YES" The sound makes you too human, too real I've seen you check your mail, and I've heard you squeal I've seen you walk your dog and I do confess I get uncomfortable when you say the word "yes" The headboard noise is probably the worst I stare at the ceiling; ah, I've been cursed I play some music and curl into a ball Waiting patiently until you finish your brawl What you do in your home is your own affair Just letting you know: I'm also there Creepy, right? Those are apartments, you see But let me nag you, if only indirectly I'd rather listen to five kids crying at once I'd rather hear twenty-five basketballs bounce I'd rather be woken by a tiger's roar Or of a teenag...

When I was four years old I didn't know what death was. I used to cut earthworms in half, just for fun. And even after they were chopped like slices of salami, they would still squirm around and I thought this was because they lived forever. My schoolteacher told me it was because they had eight hearts, but even if they survived my slaughter, they would eventually die because that's nature's way. When I was eight years old it dawned on me that the worms are no different from us. They live and eat and do their best to survive, and one day they get snatched by a bird or a disease and they turn into mush. A bird will eat me up one day, too. I, at age eight, became terrified of eternal darkness. When I was ten years old I attended a Catholic school where religion was a mandatory subject. My schoolteacher told me that when you die, you go to heaven, where you are happy and safe for all eternity. I was so excited by this idea that I wrote prayers down so that I could memorize...

The worst part of the day is when your teeth are brushed and your hygienic tasks are completed. Your work is done and you brain can't handle any more badgering from the world. The laptop is in sleep mode and the cell phone alarm is set to 8 am. This is the worst part of the day because, in the dune of time left between midnight and falling into a nightly coma, you are faced to deal with yourself. It is in this span of time that you forget about time at all.  You think about all the people you've talked to that day. You said good morning to the bus driver and you never saw him again. You split a lemon poppyseed muffin with your friend and you laughed together. You talked with the professor about his questionable teaching method. You explained to your cat that it's not proper etiquette to vomit into a food bowl. You said good night to your mother and texted bye to your lover and tweeted gnight world #peaceout .  Now, torn from the rest of the world, you suffer a sinist...

When your eyelashes rest for the night And the moon shines down upon your hair You are in that half awake state of mind Not yet dreaming, yet he’s already there Every love song on the radio reminds you of him And each melody brings his face to your thoughts He is the first and last thing you ponder about everyday Yet you deny that you like him… a lot When you see someone that merely resembles him Your heart skips a beat and your palms start to sweat And with every chance you get to talk to him You cherish his words, which you won’t ever forget His smile melts your soul from across the room And his voice makes you thirsty for more Your heart outraces your logic by a mile ‘Till you do not understand yourself anymore Maybe not all is created to make sense All you know is that when you’re with him you feel swell When he crosses your mind more than ten times a day It’s apparent that he’s got you under his spell