A Book Reminds Me…
A poem by: Olivia Williams
—-----------------------------

A book reminds me
I am alive
A book reminds me
I am loved
A book reminds me
I am seen
As well as heard
A book reminds me
Of worlds out there
That transcend
What is seen
A book reminds me
I can do anything
Until infinity
A book reminds me
About my past
That other people adventured  
Through the same things i have had too  
A book reminds me
Im me
Through strife
Through grief
Through love
And peace
It reminds me
Im human
I make mistakes
Some that can't
Be thought
About over again
A book reminds me
There's people out there
Who have seen worse
But it also reminds me
That my experiences
Are one in a million
But does not defeat
The pain that was caused
A book reminds me
i'm here
I'm alive
Im healthy
Im safe
A book reminds me
Of so much more
Because a book holds memories
Of pasts before
Were all different
With our
Bodies, minds, hearts, experiences, and souls
Mine is just another one
That is eagerly waiting
To be foretold

Disguise
A Poem by Olivia Williams
———-
I wear this mask,
It's my disguise,
It's my so-called "true person,"
But I have a secret—
It's hiding who I am.
I play on my smile,
Laugh around others.
When I'm asked to do something,
I have to gather myself together,
To put on the mask,
Heave a sigh,
Put on a smile,
And pretend I'm alright.
That day,
School dragged like chains,
And I lost my belief in whether the world was kind.
I was taught I'm worthless,
That my “type of people” didn’t belong.
So now, with my mask, I hide it all.
Afraid to trust anyone and everyone.
I do what I'm told,
I rarely falter,
Because when I do,
I feel like a disappointment.
Afterward,
I don't want people to see that I can't do it,
Because of how I gave up trying that day.
I over-explain every detail,
Because I had to do that to survive.
From what feels like not too long ago,
This mask hides me
And my personality,
Because I don't want to let it loose.
Only people I trust see the real me,
And even they
Don't see it all.
I have two sides,
Both are semi-hidden.
You only get to know
Half of each.
Once I can trust you,
You'll know both full versions of me.
I can be mean,
I can be rude,
I can be an "angel,"
Or sweet, or "look cute,"
But I can turn in a second
And snap right back.
If you push my buttons,
You'll find it out—
Exact.
I'm torn between both sides,
Of sticking up and speaking out for myself,
But I fear I will be rejected and pushed past my point,
And then I will be hurt more,
Physically and mentally,
Then I was before.
What if they don’t like the full version?
What if they don’t like the “real me”?
What if they push me, I fall,
They laugh,
And use me for their own greed?
If I show them my broken side,
Then they notice I need help,
But if I unleash everything,
Then I’m hurting them and myself.
I’m afraid to lose the people I’ve gathered,
Because they love me for who I am now.
But I can’t help but think,
“Will they after?”
I don’t think I will ever be able
To take off a FULL mask,
Because they will always want the “other side” as well.
And I don’t want my other person in me
To go too far and start to tell.
It gets exhausting keeping to half a side,
Not being on one full or both at the same time.
Each day gets heavier,
These chains weigh me down.
Keeping up both hidden sides,
Keeping up this lie,
The longer the sides dig deep inside,
The more I lose each portion,
Forever lost inside.
I hate keeping up
With certain places’ requirements.
I want to break the rules,
So they can learn
There are others out there.
Don’t you dare mess with me,
I’ve seen my share.
With this mask I hide in,
I see the inner secrets no one
Wants me to share.
I know everything,
And if you
So much as flinch and mess with me or my crowd,
You’ll see my other side of the mask,
And then
You won’t be so proud.
I’m sick of letting people push me in,
So now I’m pushing back,
And I’m not afraid to get in.
I hope you recognize
That I have other sides.
Most of my family
Doesn't know even one full side,
But I try to be the "perfect person,"
Because I can't take criticism.
I’ll just shut down.
That’s how I defended myself
When I couldn’t then.
I still can't know
I’m told to
“Be more,” “do more,”
“Be more like this.”
I try and try,
I’m so tired and worn.
I cry and fight
To be who I’m not,
Because I never feel right.
But now,
I’m hiding my mask,
Stronger than ever,
Waiting to unleash it
To those who push me.
I hid who I am,
My beliefs,
My identity,
What I like,
And what I don’t.
I act different per each person—
What side of me do you know?
But when I have on my disguises,
Which one don’t you know?

I am NOT my old self
A poem- By: Olivia Williams
——————

You still blabber on,
as if I haven’t changed yet.
You’ve bended the way I've grown  
You’ve put out my steady fire—
my true flame—
When I fought to make that new one,
In the first place.  

You think I haven’t mended
You think I won’t have “bad” days
You think I’m still following all the demands,
That old cycle,
The betrays,  
And my old ways.
Down the worn-soaked path of love and hate.


I am fighting for independence,
I am fighting to be free,
Sure, I've made mistakes!
BUT that SHOULD NOT define me.

I am strong enough,
I am loved enough,
I am brave enough,
I am outspoken,
I am ME.
mistakes shouldn’t be the “NEW” me.
I shouldn’t have to mend,
To be the daughter,
You wish I could be.

I'm admitting to my past.
I've made lots of mistakes,
I’ve had to learn the hard way,
I accept my consequences.
I am old enough to recognize,
That I'm being hurt,
And I should be stronger than that,

It’s funny how you remember the worst,
When I’ve already changed.
It’s funny how you can recount,
ALL my mistakes.
It’s funny how you pretend it still affects you,
It was many years ago.
Or how it might have been a month ago,
But you won’t let it go.
You pretend my worst is all I am,
Like I’m just a pessimistic kid.

you still haven’t seen,
All parts of me.
I'm MUCH more than that,
I still keep secrets,
The good-kind at least.
Like the birthday surprises,
Or some of my beliefs.

Believe what you want,
Replay what comforts you,
When you fall asleep at night.
DON'T expect to see the girl you think of,
Because I've been more than ”changed”.

I’ve outgrown my old skin
Reshaped my life
Like a mold
I’ve risen above the stars
When you look up
You won’t see one tiny star
You’ll see a galaxy of light

I’m NOT my old self
And you should know that now
I want to be better
So..come..join me now.

I remember…
———————-
I remember your slobbery kisses,
That covered my face.
I remember your hugs,
To which you spared no grace.
I remember your eyes,
So full of life,
And your smile,
That even with bad breath,
Would light up my world.
I remember your tail,
That would swing,
With joy at every little word.
And how you’d tilt your head,
Whenever we said something you loved.
The word “treat” would bring joy in your eyes,
And your legs became spunky,
As you bolted to the cabinet,
Or when you chased your favorite toy.
Your ears would jump,
As you were to catch your ball,
While you sprinted to chase it,
And prevent it from escaping to the woods.
I love you Toby,
I’ll always remember,
I know you don’t have long.
No matter what,
I love you always,
And I always have.
With everything that happens,
No matter how vocal or mad you are,
I’ll love you forever Toby.
Past infinity.
Past and past,
So very far.

Preview -
OF “CEREMONY OF COLORS”
- THE SHORT STORY-
— — — —

In this town each person has a color that means what rank or position they are in society. They get their color when they turn ten,but one family has an unknown gene discovered after an accident that created a baby born with a unique color. How will they be treated?How will they ever fit in? Who will they become? And what place are they truly..in society.
——————————
“COME ON, EVERYONE LET'S GET TOGETHER BEFORE THE CEREMONY OF COLORS!!!” Jack yells

“COMING” yelled the group in unison

“Trinity are you…ok?”

“Yeah…just a bit nervous.”

“You know you don’t have to be, you’ll be yellow! I’m sure!

“Really…you think!?”

“Of course! Now! Come on, we're going to be late!”

She smiled as she watched him sprint away from her as he yelled to Mark.

“EVERYONE PLEASE QUIET DOWN, THE CEREMONY WILL START NOW!”

Everyone hushed and the auditorium creaking was the only sound, an eerie one at that.

“WELCOME to the ceremony of colors!”
(Clapping consumed the auditorium then quieted, as if practiced)

“First we will call your number on your black t-shirt and you will come up to be scanned!”

“Alicia Robens, number 1!”
“Jack Macalom, number 2!”
“Mark jackson, number 3”
“Hannah Kendrick, number 4!”
“Greg tanker, number 5!”
“Frida Carlson, number 6!”
“Esten brand, number 7!”
“Danika Jenkins, number 8!”
“Penny render, number 9!”
“ Anderson king, number 10!”
“Wesley Ansikten, number 11!”
“Zing fredmend, number 12!”
“And lastly…..”
“Trinity sandman, number 13!”
All thirteen of you have reached the age of ten and are now ready to receive your colors. I now invite ONE parent from each child to come up to grab the scanner to do the honors of revealing their place in society, their color, and their job in our town of…. Malloryville!”

Each parent stepped up, grabbed the scanner and positioned themselves in front of their child.

“NOW, WHEN I SAY “GO”, YOU WILL SCAN YOUR CHILD WHEN I CALL THE NUMBER AND THE AUDITORIUM WILL GLOW THE COLOR THEY GOT AND SO WILL THEY I WILL IST RULES OF COLOR THEN WE WILL COMMENCE.

RED-DOCTOR- BRAVE BUT KIND
ORANGE- FIREFIGHTER- BRAVE
YELLOW-GARDNER- GENTLE AND KIND
GREEN- CARETAKER/TEACHER- CALM AND RULE BOUND
BLUE-POLICE OFFICER/GUARD- LEADER AND DETERMINED
AND PURPLE- HOUSE BUILDER- STRONG AND BRAVE

“NUMBER 1!” (Turns yellow)
“Number 2!” (Turns green)
“Number 3!” (Turns blue)
“Number 4!” ( turns Orange)
“Number 5!” ( turns purple)
“Number 6!” (Turns red)
“Number 7!” (Turns blue)
“Number 8!” (Turns red)
“Number 9!” (Turns yellow)
“Number 10!” (Turns purple)
“Number 11!” (Turns orange)
“Number 12!” (Turns green)
“Lastly! Number 13!” (Turnsssss.. GOLD!!!…”
“***!”
Everyone goes quiet in shock
Many run out of the auditorium
“IT'S TRUE!…YOUR…YOU’R.”

TO INFINITY AND BEYOND
——————-
-for Toby-
Busy days,
Long nights,
Laughing at your high-pitched barks,
At all your funny quirks,
Or the way you give me that one side-eye.
You are my star,
You are my shine,
You are, and will always be,
Mine.
You aren't just a "dog,"
You aren't just tail, paws, and fur.
You are the toothy smile,
You are the light like the stars
When the nights were long.
How you chase the tennis ball,
How you bark when the mail-people come along,
How you eat everything in sight,
How you give the best kisses,
How you endure the belly rubs each night.
Or finally, how you chase Mom and Dad around,
But never win the fight.


You've been cast as a star,
Because you're my shining light.
You, my baby boy —
I will always love you,
No matter the time of day or night.
Before bed,
Our daily ritual repeats —
And will forever live in my head.
Even when you growl, when your having a rough day,
I'll always be here, if you ever need a hug.
Your heart hums my favorite song,
And plays in my mind
When the days seem long.
You rest now,
Body weak,
Your cancer growing,
The throwing up
Never seems to deplete.
Your love wraps each of us in.
My baby boy,
Getting sick now —
I'll be with you till the end.
I have you in one necklace,
And in my memory,
And in my photos —
But life won't be the same
Without you to hold onto.
Your bark remains the same,
So does your smile,
But I can tell you're getting worse,
Because your love sometimes doesn't go the full mile.
"To infinity," we always say.
"And beyond," is always said —
No matter if it's during the day,
Or near bed, when everyone retreats.
“Love” is a word we use a lot, it depends on how it's used. But in this case it means a WHOLE LOT MORE than “alot”
It's a tradition
That will always live on —
Like your perfect face,
Your bark,
Your paws will.
Forever.
No matter what.
To infinity,
And beyond.

Yellow
a poem — by Olivia Williams
TW
———————


A trembling yellow rose,
fighting away pain from the past

so bright,
so bold.
Despite bruises that go unknown,
Its petals are so soft, like silk — frayed and torn, but itching to unfold.
Painted in yellow,
stories of the world,
yet to be told.
The color serenades a hopeful- eager tune,
of one where life
hasn't gone so wrong.


This quiet melody slowly rises among these bruised valleys,
that has forced me to ascend.
the melodies of laughter fill the killer silence,
piercing through– like a knife pierces through paper.
The color,
is pale, illuminating light.
that shines into a
sad, dark room.
casting pale sunlit patterns on my walls.

The color brings flowers-
happiness, and love—hour by hour.
Still this ticking clock… never-ever stops
How much can my body take?
before my internal clock shatters like glass,
After being hit by lightning on a rainy day?
Fragile glass shattered in fury, and pain
What happens then? Do I lose not only my time but my color?

Time.
Time by time,
again and again,
I stare out into the vast void,
stars scattered in a hazy night sky —
so full of life,
yet I'm haunted by that day
that I didn't fight.
I feel trapped in
my bright room,
my happy place,
yet the world
has been so cruel.


A building storm
Hail-force winds, black sky
lightning rumbles and thunder clatters
Tornado raging through
Belongings ripped out
My hope, strength, love, all spread about
That then get worse
It’s running this same course  
The storm ravages around, scouring the area on the prowl
like a tiger looking for a meal —
but I'm left for dead,
for this tiger
to take me away.
And I’m next.


The clouds cover these bruises with their own.
Deep crimson red and pig pink, illuminate the shattered ocean.
Of falling happy memories.
Rain lashing and bursting into the ground-like a hammer bursting into concrete.
thunder's roar stomps and shakes like the roar of an oncoming train.
I reach out—fingers grasping,
clawing at the rain-soaked dirt,
as I fall down the peak of the jagged torn cliff into the bubbling and boiling water.
This has stolen that yellow spark,
that joy, that happiness— fleeing like a criminal escaping away in the fog-filled night sky.
I try and try
to be my best.

Their words still sting like knives,
each digging and plunging into my back
as they further stack stones
’til I'm about to collapse.

This buried treasure.
underneath gravelly, torn mountains.
Bruised and battered, deep blues, purples and greens run together and fade into a dark shadowed nightmare where pain and images dance with cruel intent.
I have sure had my share of pain
or horror,
which others had made me the chosen
to unfold.
I was forced to fit into their mold.
So I could survive those years,
That pain remained bold.


I'm not even sure my candle will last.
My color, it shines, it flickers on —
sometimes less than the rest,
but it will forever live on
in my heart of gold.


The sky is as blue as the sea.
The wind brushing my
light brown hair
against my face.
My pale brown eyes staring out into the sea
of those that had decided to hurt
Who carved scars until I collapsed
all now float away
like pieces of driftwood
from a dismantled ship.
They call out for help,
but I ignore their cries-
like they had ignored me
when I was sinking.

I stand on this ship,
Made from survivors like me.
Looking out into the sea,  
Hoping that one good person survived,
But all of them betrayed and hurt me.

I walk around this ruined ship,  
Wooden frame- weathered and cracked.
Broken glass and bottles cover the claustrophobic halls,
Planks of this wood are warped from time and pain.
Engraved is the blood of guilt and shame.
I hear them call- “PLEASE HELP, WE‘RE SORRY! ”
but they stole my trust the way they’d steal from the mall.
The sails hang in shreds of fabric, torn by storms of fear,
Open crevasses lead below deck,
Filled with rain, blood, glass, and a permanent echo of “what’s next?”
The hull groans and mumbles under the weight of the pain,
Of the shame— for not standing up straighter, than it thought it could handle.
The ship had finally crumpled, under the weight of the “betrayed” they were carrying.

I step off this ghost ship,
And run away from the cries and blood-curdling screams.
I’m not rescuing someone who pleaded and caused me to start drowning.
And I push on, so I can be who I want to be.

I will stand up,
let my rose unfold.
My petals will open
to a day of promise.
I just need time to gather,
to find a day of coping.
That glitter inside me —
the gold,
the shine,
that bold,
that love —
waiting for a chance to spring up
like flowers on a nice summer day.
The sweet smell of roses opening up
while all creatures awaken from their slumber;
their time has run up.

The cold of pain had passed.
The sun will rise now.
I stand on this ship,
A new one called “hope”
New sails, new wood, new life, my future is still unknown,
on this very bow I stand, tall and strong.
And if I may,
I will let myself be brave,
be loved
be myself,
be unique,
be me.


This ship will lead me home.
The lighthouse beyond this sea
is full of friends and family
waiting to welcome home
changed me.

A couple months pass.
I am slowly recovering.
Each new month shapes my fate.
I have a new rose, golden and yellow,
Fighting for life.
Frayed petals now healing,
From my past fate.
I will fight now like the flower,
Like the color in one.
Always- forever,
I will let myself be that flower- that sun.

I’ll fight the pull of happiness and pain
I’ll push against the days, where the pain is beckoning
I stand strong
I speak up
I will fight the ghosts,
the dreams.
my life.
And who I want to be.
I want to be me,
I don’t want to hide.

I will love myself,
To infinity.
Even if that means,
I fall for a short time.
I am stronger than they all say.
I will always fight, here in healing is where I lay,
It is, and will always be,
a Yellow
kind of Day.