Yellow
a poem — by Olivia Williams
TW
———————
A trembling yellow rose,
fighting away pain from the past
Those who made fun,
Didn’t think she would last.

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 swells like the tide
among these bruised valleys,
even echos dare not to make a peep
the melodies of laughter
For those who fueled pain
fill the silence,
piercing through– like glass to skin.
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 a place I called safe
yet the world
has been so cruel.
It tore that to shreds,
Like paper ripped in half.


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
I am a canvas of scars
Internal fire,
External gauges.
They didn’t ask if I could be “claimed”
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.
pale brown eyes scan the sea,
of the graveyard of those,
Who carved scars until I collapsed.
Like signatures etched into my spine.
all adrift among the bubbling sea
like splintered—discarded driftwood
from a dismantled ship.
From which I thought was home
They wail, plead, and call,
but I ignore their cries-
Tangled within sea foam,
And broken lies.
like they once did
when I was sinking
Underneath a horrid storm.

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 where breathing,
Feels like a flower blooming on a spring day.
That glitter inside me —
the gold, dust, hope, and fire
Come together.
Rising within me
Trying to find power
Bursting through concrete
Like an earthquake does
So strong,
it unlocks the inside of the earth,
like a key.

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.
full of those who remember,
—care about my name,
waiting to welcome home,
not who they thought I was
But the raw-real-new me.

Months slip by
And brush the sandy shore
The rocks have slowly faded
Leaving only a few more.
recovery blooms.
And I start to catch my breath
Knowing that pain will come
But I have to take care of myself
And I know I can.
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 unfold my shadow
Stand in the sun.

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.

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.

The Sea That Sparkles
A poem
——————————————-

Sunlight spills like melting gold
Pouring down on velvet-like sand
Running through my fingers
Sifting through my skin

Each shell
Brushes along the sandy shore
The waves licking the surface
Like little puppy dog kisses
showering the sea

The lighthouse shines on the glittered sand
just right
And the birds whisper
As they fly

Above the watercolor of sea
Tints of all colors  
Open into a valley of water
Full of life swimming bout
The sheltered coral
Drifting to stay upright the in shy waves

The sun
Like gold jewels
Of a gorgeous dream
The clouds of new themes arise from the
Crystal sky
Cotton candy clouds
Fill in a small space

Distant murmurs of
Tides steady tune
A salty-sweet tang mix
Fills the ocean air
A faint scent of seaweed, and flowers
Scatter the sea side  

tiny ***** scurry around the sand
Forming little shadows
And hiding in the crevasses
Of watered down rocks
Foams lace the water
Like fabric scattered
After a storm

Light bends around the horizon
Filling the sky like glitter
where the sky meets the sea
The little things that sparkle
Is the beach
And I let it consume me
It’s always my dream
It’s who I am
The little things that sparkle
Shows me
The sea

The Sunshine Stingray
——————————-
A shimmer of glitter,
in the clawing waves of the sea.
A jewel of light,
a candle of hope,
stingray’s grace
letting me be me.
Birds take flight
above the deep, dark waves,
hiding secrets underneath —
betrayals and caves.
I used to get trapped.
Lungs burned,
feeling like fire colliding into my ribs.
Legs flailing,
giving up when I had nothing left.
Water up my nose, in my mouth —
choking, pleading for help.
I couldn’t swim.
I was tossed and toppled
into the bruised sea,
dragged underneath
like someone was pulling down on me.
The sky was so dark,
like a brewing storm.
I had prayed for light
that never came.
But now I’m leaving my mark
on the golden — in my stingray.
Beneath a new dawn, a glow lights above.
The bruised and battered sea— fights,
tossing me off course,
so far.
I felt like I was flying
out of a speeding car.
My wings spread wide —
golden glitter over pale skin,
covering fading gashes
like a tarp.
Trying to stitch light into the wound,
trying to patch up my past
with shimmer and silence.
Even though I know
I didn’t earn it —
because I didn’t fight back.
Still, the warmth of the cloudy sky
and the new sun
offer a kind of mercy.
Night meets day.
The fire is no longer ablaze.
The sky is a glass mirror
beneath a veil of shaded fog.
The clouds hide only a little of the sun.
I dive down deep.
I’m not afraid anymore.
I know I’m loved —
I’m strong.
I can fight through life,
evermore.
Corals play and dance
around the sea,
like lanterns swinging
in a breeze.
The sun finally opens
for all to see.
The fish come out —
not scared, they don’t flee.
The colors of the coral
light up and ripple
through the fading darkness
of the sea.
There’s peace at last.
Land ahead —
reefs open up,
ships rise to full mast.
The aftermath
is broken and ******,
but scars slowly heal,
one step at a time.
Day by day,
the stingray glows
brighter than the start
on our new starry night.
The sun leaves the softest ray.
A candle still burns.
I’m rebuilding my life,
hugging with the ocean —
a true embrace.
I’ve left most behind,
leaving hurt without a trace.
Day turns to night.
The world falls silent.
Waves lick the sandy shores.
Seagulls go hushed
as they fly back home.
The deep, battered, bruised
fades into space — and time.
Now meant to be left behind —
crevasses of empty holes
that never healed.
Empty words and prayers,
never answered,
now lay strewn… sealed.
My stingray glows
through its pain,
its shame
for not being who it is,
for not being brave.
“It’s okay to be afraid,”
people say —
but what they don’t realize
is the world is eating fear.
So I’ve learned to steer clear.
My light now shines.
So does my ray.
The storm and sea now fade
into what life is — into infinity.
A sunshine grows
as the cloudy sky subsides,
and I’m slowly becoming brave enough…
to be myself — and try.
My ray is new.
Glitter is what it holds.
And holding onto more,
underneath it all —
is hope.
“What is the sunshine stingray?”
you may ask?
Well… it’s me.
Starting life over,
day by day,
night by night.
Pain, bruises, storms —
I just wait for them to subside.
I try my best
when that’s what’s asked.
I put forth my effort,
to love myself during my worst,
and learn from my mistakes.
I’m human.
So when you see that shimmer,
when you see a sunset or sunrise,
or a stingray gliding below —
a survivor is moving free
from chains
that once held it taunt.
I will try to live,
in the life,
of the sunshine stingray —
and hold onto hope,
no matter the days.
I’m reborn,
alive,
glowing,
grounded,
Free,
My life.
My sunshine.
My stingray.

Broken Promises — a poem by Olivia
They hand me empty promises and lies
like gauze for wounds that are only slightly recognizable.
“You're a fighter though!” they say,
not realizing how much they’ve hurt me
with their actions and their words.
I slowly decay,
yet they say, “I’ll pray.”
But praying won’t help,
because you put my “cure”
out there like fixing one thing
will heal all the blurred lines
and begs that are yet to be heard.
You can stitch all my scars,
you can place gauze over bullets,
but that doesn’t fix all the outside and inside hurt
that’s tortured me behind more than just caged bars.
You pretend some don’t exist,
thinking changing one thing
can fix the rest.
You mistake my frustrated silence
for invisibility —
as if I don’t exist.
Everyone believes a “cure” or a “small fix”
can relieve some pain.
But the days draw long,
and the pain lives on.
My body is hurting
in more ways than one.
No one is listening
to the full story.
Am I not important enough
to get the help I need —
to literally survive
and keep going?
I feel like a burden
when people truly listen.
They try to help,
they try to “heal,”
but I am too far gone.
I’m the storm
raging in my own body,
leaking small streams
to be “discovered.”
They patch me up,
thinking one change is enough,
until I boil over
and yell, “I'VE HAD ENOUGH.”
When I blow,
I'm told,
“It’s your period,”
or “If you work on your anxiety, it’ll all go away!”
Yet YOU are the one that betrayed me.
YOU make those comments.
YOU think I WANT this?
I want my life back.
I want to live.
I want to exist.
I want to do everything
Everyone else can.
I wish I could eat
the biggest bowl of pasta
with tomatoes right now —
but It hurts.
I wish I could have something carbonated…
BUT IT HURTS.
I WISH I COULD LIVE PAIN FREE,
BUT MY BODY IS BREAKING ME APART.
I FEEL LIKE I'M FALLING WAY TO FAR!!!
I don’t want this life.
Someone, please hear me.
Every time you pretend to listen,
to hear,
you miss the end.
I’ve written it out before.
Your broken promises —
“Everything’s going to get better”
and “You’re a fighter” —
aren’t enough.
I know you’re trying.
But I’m falling apart.
And your broken promises
will never be enough.
I’m a burden.
I understand.
But please listen anyway.
My wounds are deep crevasses
that aren’t fixable
by a band-aid
or some gauze.
Please look at the full picture,
and don’t look at it
like there’s just one cause.
My body is like shattered glass
piercing into my soul.
My mind is a tornado
I can’t hide from.
They hand me prayers
like shredded paper
that’s supposed to “shield the pain,”
but it’s all in vain.
They always admit it’s easier
to patch a crack with a band-aid or gauze
than to fix the gaping holes
that are spewing thoughts,
pain,
shouts,
pleas for help
when no one is listening
to the true pain.
They say words like “strong,” and “fight,”
“Brave,” “Bold,” “persistent,” or a “warrior”
like those are the things
that will make it right.
But they say that
so they don’t have to sit
in the blood, sweat, and tears
of my broken body,
my storm-tossed mind,
the wreck inside me.
Those times in those offices,
while they spew how I should change.
But when I try to put those in play,
It's a grave mistake.
The clock ticks slower,
my mind races fast,
thinking one change of a medication,
one simple diet change,
will help all of these facts.
I won’t stand for people like this.
I want to live like a normal kid.
I want to exist.
I don’t want prayers.
I don’t need sympathy.
I just need help.
Please don’t give me broken promises.
I need more help
than what’s been given.
I’m not a lesson to be taught
on how to appear “fine.”
I’m not your charity case
holding a briefcase of lies.
I am HERE —
bleeding,
breaking,
falling apart.
Are YOU finally listening?
Don’t act like you know how to fix me.
Don’t act “smart.”
Just support me.
Will you be my support buddy?
Can you help me?

The Road-
A poem: by Olivia Williams.
——-
i've run along this road all my life
I've been running away from it all night
I've been hanging on to these handrails that just keep breaking
People keep telling me that no matter what I'm lying
I've been running away from these shackles that hold me prisoner
These thoughts that want to break my mind
My body that feels like its crumbling as time goes on
“I need to hang on”
“I need to stay strong”
I think in my head as I run this road
“But I'm a failure”
“But I'll never be important enough”
They reply back
“You'll never be great”
You'll never be perfect”
They continue as they chuckle
I run as they chase me
All my thoughts mix together
Envy and Sadness
Hope and anger
Hopelessness
It's all there
It is all that held my world accountable
All the times I've been pushed to breaking point
All the times I've been hurt beyond words
All the times I've been left in the dirt
All the times I've been missing the signs
The signs I'm human
The signs I'm a good person
The signs I'm someone worth living for
Everyday i fight
Fight pain, physical and mental  
Fighting has held me strong
Everything inside me
Is fighting
I sing it
It's my song
This is my road
My life
My heart
And I've reached a point where I have to accept myself
No matter what
This roads mine
Through everything
My Suffering and my pain
My joy and my shame
it's on this road
That I've been running from
I've been running from my feelings
They have tried to hold me hostage
This devil of dark
This red-eyed monster
The past is behind me
I'm starting new
This year is my year
I'll make sure of it to
I need all the help i can get
To change my ways
To help me move away from the past
I need to move past it
I call all family and friends
All teachers and others
All my supporters
I need people to help me
I need people to join my road
So…
Will you join me?

Valiant-
A poem By:
Olivia Williams.
——-
I try to be valiant
I try to be brave
I try to be someone important
I try to be a friend
I try to be honest
And kind
I try to be respectful
Creative, and unique
But yet I fall
And I get sad
That things aren’t going the way I planned
This person he controls
My whole personality
And always withholds
From letting me be myself
So I can’t be any of those
I try to be unique
I try to be myself
But most of all
I want to be valiant