Dreaming of you

I had a dream. You were next to me. My parents were there, and you were saving me.

I generally would be opposed to the idea of being a damsel in distress needing to be saved, but your presence and undying support was what dreams are truly made of.

You assured me I was strong, that I could do this. I could tell those that have done me wrong that they were no longer needed. In this dream we were a unit. An impassable storm. Those around us couldn’t help but be trapped, that is, within the awe of us. The perfect storm. Perfect for each other in all the right and wrong ways. Everything in its right place.

I can’t help but question whether this had an underlying message. Perhaps my subconscious was telling me you need me to move on from you. To stop hoping I awake to a message from you. Perhaps the message is something completely meaningless, a joke, a rant, a rambling; or perhaps it’s something heartstopping, a confession of the ardent love I have always wished someone would reciprocate. Whatever this message I wish upon is, I am still hoping I meant more to you than I have been made to believe now.

This dream was so real. You reached out for my hands, calming the trembles I had found myself victim to. Your hands, they had this calming effect. You had brought me to my knees. Your eyes this bronze whirlwind of a universe, enchanting me and intoxicating me with every look. Your eyes had a way of tracing me in the most tender manner. the chilling gaze of those who wish ill upon me, cut deep, but your presence made it all alright. What a peculiar thing. To be completely okay, only with the presence of one person. Alas it was only a dream.

I awoke to nothing. I hope to fall into a slumber again. I hope someone awakes me when you call. I’ll either wake up to your call, or never wake up at all.


el beso

they used to measure the passage of hours according to the fading of emotions and the dissipation of memory.

that is time, they would say, coursing through us, taking the moment along with it. permanence is granted within us, as our faint murmurs of life remain our only guidance.

time is, but, a remedy for longing.

– olivia

Don’t Die for Me

To the friend I almost lost,

I know the suffocating loneliness you must be coming closely acquainted with right now.

This feeling will begin strong, unfaltering in its power to incapacitate you. I promise you it won’t last. It must hurt to see everyone move on without knowing what you truly want in life. Perhaps the heartbreak hit you harder than it normally would someone else, but this is not a fault in character my friend. This is your human response. Your vulnerability in this time, is not a weakness. Anything but. It is a strength. This strength is a virtue you’ll begin to treasure within yourself and others.

Vulnerability is hard to come by. It takes immense strength and often the darkest times to truly become wholeheartedly vulnerable. You will become kinder, warmer, compassionate, you will begin to accept the voice from within and work with it, not against it.

Accepting yourself as you are, will be a defining factor in your life. You will do many great things, I can assure you that without a doubt. These times aren’t forgiving, but you will come out the other side. Don’t sacrifice yourself for me. A cause you have been blindly following for so long. You are worth more than a single person. You are the most valuable person in your life. At the end of the day you will always have you. This reality can be hard to grapple with initially, but with time comes the cultivation of self-compassion and understanding. You can do this.

On an eve where I saw no hope in living, I was reminded of a truly monumental occasion in my life. A moment in which I had felt the reigns of tyranny release. A thirst for freedom, happiness and love was finally quenched. I was free. I was sad, lonely, barely coping – but I was free. I was brave and I was finally free.

There is a strength within you, yet to be untapped. It will be hard, but it will become easier. Just please, don’t give up.

– please don’t leave me, friend –

Are you there?

As of late my mornings are unforgivably harsh to the psyche.

I spend them in constant dream recovery.

They reveal to me the person whom I wish to write, whom I either refuse to or can no longer.

No surprises here as I beg the question on repeat; am I ever going to see your face again?

the ‘i miss you’ complex

she, who was once starry-eyed, full of curiosity and intrigue, has been granted a loss of innocence.

a death of the soul.

a void manifests within the hearts deepest depths.

it is a black-hole that attracts everything that was once out of reach – and subsequently destroys them along with the hope, dreams, and life she once possessed.

she begs, “please come back.”

alas, it’s too late.

be careful to not stare too deeply into her eyes, otherwise you will also disappear from her life in the same manner.

extracted through a black-hole of emotions, memories and experiences, you see her.

just her.

when you see the weight of her love, you will run undoubtedly.

perhaps they run in fear of hurt, or of hurting, but in the process do both. without a doubt.


what a fool i was to allow you to lead me to my demise.

what a fool i was to fall for such a jester.

what a fool i was to let you infiltrate my heart.

what a fool i am to continue to long for your affections.

what a fruitless game of love, i am yet to conquer.

but still i fall in love too easily.

– olivia

to be a woman

forever i waited for you.

as time passed and as we aged, your memory faded.

but every so often when i hear your name; it ignites a flame within.

a yearning that is lost between a hello and goodbye.

to be in your arms is both quintessentially heaven and my darkest hell.

your tenderness singes my dream of femininity, and the pursuit of a forever love.

is this what it is to be a woman?

searching for your gaze constantly, seeking your approval constantly.

seeking some form of validation so i can rest knowing i have pleased the surveyor of my existence.

will i one day wager my body for the acknowledgement i have violently seeked?

was it really love, or was it an idealised expectation, brought upon to me by a world hell-bound on destroying me?

oh the trials and tribulations of womanhood.

– olivia

the seething cut of betrayal

no one ever told me of the weight of an empty heart.

when one’s own blood, love, friend, trusted companion, cuts you; no one tells you why.

is this revenge?

is this retribution?

is this a payment for one’s past and future wrongdoings?

is there a deeper meaning to a betrayal of exquisite stature?

all that is known is that the wound is heavy to bear, and is seeping with the residue of what love i still to this day have for them.

what a truly pathetic tragedy.

– olivia

the regret of reality

it truly is a strange universe to live in, which between every breath is a heartbeat of yearning, of desire, and an ever-inching chasm of what truly is.

the harsh reality of reality itself. the emptiness of what could never be, but the fullness of hope.

perhaps life is inherently paradoxical.

– olivia

one of many

having nothing particularly revolutionary to offer to a world so devoid of fullness is truly terrifying yet (strikingly & oddly) gratifying.

to find an individual so full of hope, so full of potential to do great, whatever great may be, is one of life’s greatest joys.

what will they do?

what will they say?

perhaps, they hold a piece of a bewildering puzzle that has been missing for far too long.

yet maybe we all do, and they’re just one of many.

perhaps they just have the courage to do something about it.

remarkable, considering we all are bound to the same destiny.

– olivia

the reconciliation

to mourn someone who is yet to pass.

to be haunted by someone who still is very much living.

the mind is an enigma, and for that I’m forgiving.

for the pain that it has brought to me on the darkest of days, has lead to the newest of beginnings.

when days are dark, allies are few, and the mind is held all too close for comfort; i shall count on you alone.

you, the haunting memory of a past yet to be.

i do hope you hold great things for me.

– olivia

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