Olga's Poetry & Thoughts

I do not have the capability to tell you what I am But I sure as hell can recite to you what I am not. I am not A scrap of debris to be stepped on To be wasted To be forgotten. I am not Some sort of playing field. There are no black-and-white checkers lining my stomach, are there? Chess pieces need someplace else to roam. I am not A merciless barbarian who needs no one to hold With teeth the size of elephant tusks gripping my chest… I am not I swear my life on this one- Every inch of my being is content with this, when I say- I am not Just Another Girl. And if you think so, Whatever.

The path from the heart to the lips Is filled with potholes and easy slips It’s the core of confusion; lover of lust The faucet from which regret steadily drips

Tulips hang their heads at night Sometimes I wonder why Roses close their arms in fright While the dampened soil turns dry Sometimes I wonder why The owls scavenge with the moon While the dampened soil turns dry Leaving white mice to their doom The owls scavenge with the moon Needlessly boasting as they go Leaving white mice to their doom Maple trees swaying to and fro Needlessly boasting as they go Hunters stomping through the wood Maple trees swaying to and fro Shooting as carelessly as they could Hunters stomping through the wood Maple trees swaying to and fro Shooting as carelessly as they could Needlessly boasting as they go

I am just a bird with nowhere to fly Wings clipped together till the day that I die My beak is taped shut and my feet are so sore If I could melt, I would not be afraid anymore My heart was sold, and bought by oily-faced men And I know I will not be able to see my mother again They treat me like an animal, although I am free They split open my scars as if I don’t bleed Coughing and smiling with cigarettes in their cheek They pound me even though they know I am weak I wish I could migrate with the others- in the clouds I wish I could do something to make myself proud! But they’ve beat me- they’ve ruined me, now I can’t fly I am merely a bird waiting to die

My own misery has started to take pity on me, Butterflies nibbling at my nerve. Monarchs with jaw full of rigid canines, Ready to deliver my soul what it deserves. Cowardice be gone! Yet it loathes the underworld, Therefore it lingers on me like a leech on puffed flesh. No matter how greatly I yearn to break it down, Bravery is beheaded and despair is refreshed! My heart is a few beats away from extinction, Yet I ponder and meander around aimlessly. No purpose, no emotion, no loving, no joy, With genuine misfortune teasing and enveloping me. The truth is that I love being a little less than my best, And I thoroughly enjoy losing clamorous wars. But maybe, just one time, I can decapitate cowardice, So that I would not have to be afraid anymore.

Vibes pulsating through my chest Bodies against bodies tightly compressed It’s a sweaty and hot atmosphere Drums so loud I can’t speak nor hear Teenagers with piercings pushing through Mowing down everyone, they don’t care who Crazy girls bodysurfing all the way to the stage Angered old man storming out in a rage Everyone’s jumping and singing aloud Fists in the air held up high and proud Rock stars jamming out on their guitars Singing about beer and movies and stars Fans wildly pushing each other around Hustling and rioting all the way to the ground The only thing keeping me here is the beat The acoustics and vibrations savoury sweet Shouting all the lyrics I know Constantly dreading the end of the show Suffocating from overwhelmingly badass fun And the concert has only begun

Every breath of gentle air I inhale is in memory of you Each beat of my pounding heart is in thought of you Just know that everything I do I do it all for you... But the days are getting shorter and the air is getting thick My pulse is glacial and my heart is raw and sick I thought the bluebells grinned at me, but my eyes were playing tricks I presumed they would charm me, but my soul tore from falling bricks Here I go again, but I swear this is the last time I'd be guilty if crushing my own spirits were a crime The glass is half empty and the margarita's half full All colours of the rainbow fading to grey and dull There's no where else to go but higher up from here The past is but a statement now; the past can disappear So here I am, as I always was, as I will remain This is me, a humble soul, with only myself to blame