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[calculatedchaotic]

Cruelty on a Cross

Real cruelty is how he’s glad she died before she lost all her hair I texted a  dead person and dreamt she read it. Real cruelty is wishing she didn’t die so I didn’t have to cover her shifts I never wished her  Merry Christmas at her shiva. Real cruelty is the crossing guard not helping me across the street what’s another one from a place for wayward people. Real cruelty is missing the memorial. Her hair would have grown back.  It would have grown back.

[calculatedchaotic]

Beached the first time you came to my house there was a mermaid painted on the wall my aunt never finished her before my sister moved out  and I chose a slate gray. I can still feel her beneath the paint in time I could recreate every brush stroke and unerased pencil line. you  make me want to  vomit  every cliche under your  driver's seat until the putrid scent  drives you off a  cliff into the sea  below. you’ll hear a siren– is that an ambulance  coming  for  You?

[calculatedchaotic]

Carmilla, I want… (v.2)

I want you to crash your car and climb from the wreckage

only to drag me in with you as the engine explodes;

the flames chill our bones and we will feel

what it's like to leave the house.

I want you to lie about your birthday

so I feel better lying about my name.

We are both terrible people deserving of hell

but no one deserves where we’ll end up.

I want you to grow your nails long

So I can paint them every color on the sidewalk.

I want puncture wounds on my cheeks

So people will stop looking at my eyes.

I want blood to pour from my skin

So I’ll never run out of blush.

I want to forget how to scab

because it's a useless skill anyway.

I want to know what it’s like for your hands to wring my neck and

I want to stop focusing on my breath and

I want you to want to kill me.

Nobody’s ever cared enough to kill me.

I want to stay home from school today

because I had a dream about the girl living in my wall.

She has a destiny laid out for me in the kitchen

and the steak knives would feel so

lovely in my chest.

My father carved a wooden knife just for you, Carmilla,

will you stay home too?

~ Ollie

[calculatedchaotic]

I’m waiting for the day

that dog runs to me and

jumps up into my arms.

They’ll all look at us,

horrified.

~Ollie

[calculatedchaotic]

Carmilla, I want

I want you to crash your car and take me down with you I want blood to pour from my skin I want puncture wounds on my chest I want to know what it’s like for your hands to wring my neck I want you to want to kill me Nobody’s ever cared enough to kill me

~ Ollie

[calculatedchaotic]

writing about it

why can’t you see the bags under my eyes? i tried not to wear makeup today because i see roadkill now more than i ever used to and i can’t remember a time when my daydreams weren’t filled with ideas on how i could  kmhjsklahjskiw these words aren’t meant to be spoken they’re meant to be caught flying outside the car window  and scuttle in the corner of your bedroom. how can i die without making anyone else sad i'm thinking of flushing them so i can write a poem about it i’d be really sorry i did it because i was really happy and i loved my parents and i looked at the sunset everyday and i thought it was beautiful

~ Ollie

[calculatedchaotic]

Synthetic

My silver dollar arm floats up toward the ceiling,

it has watched me weave this web of lies and knows

the kind of person I am.

It wants to leave me, we have so much in common.

I’m Annabelle, we’re not real.

Fool’s gold on my fingers, heating up from the sun

my flesh is searing, I can smell it.

I can hear it. I can feel it.

Oh god, why is my body real?

Was it all the promises I never followed through with? 

Was it the desperation of a flushed child.

I hope you accept my apology

because you were right.

The foresight of books that i couldn’t get through

too dense, too stupid, too real.

A bottle’s not enough.

Aspartame fills my stomach;

I gag but nothing comes up.

Synthetic. Syntechtic. sythentic.

Sintencnic. Shynthectit. snityncic.

~ Ollie

[calculatedchaotic]

Violent Ends Her sunbeams fool you into thinking it’s alright— take your coat off and sit in the grass type of alright— but soon enough the shadows swallow you whole. Frost among flames, what a foolish way to die. Without your coat to break the fall she claims another. Raising you, it's no wonder she was forced to such violence. It’s almost cruel; your bittersweet ability to pour grains of sand and metal into your ears as she screams at you to stop. A scrap of something, now bankrupt, Carves flowers along the ridges of your brain She claims more.  Her tears won’t end, she has so little control, they claim more and more. Its starting to flood now; even sunshine is deadly. She grieves you though there is nothing to grieve. Poor girl. Awful girl. Malicious girl. She just wanted to say hello! The first day of spring is a disappointment, and the last day of fall sets your feet ablaze. She will claim everything until she has nothing left to kill.

~Ollie

[calculatedchaotic]

chase the person you want to see in your coffin.

don’t let them bury a stranger.

~Ollie

[calculatedchaotic]

Epistolary

There is a letter with your name scribbled at the bottom,

addressed to no one and to everything,

written by hubristic hands---

there, see the scorch marks?

But remember: to write is not to carve.

Take my eraser and make their lines illegible.

Make sure your own pencil does not fall into the divots you cannot erase.

And if they’ve used a blotchy black, take your red inked pen

and simply correct them.

~Ollie

[calculatedchaotic]

Universal Insanity

See this madman’s universe, physics turned upright! Wishes crash down from a curse as they fight for Most Painful Plight. A single dark red star in a sky of coffee-stained white, irrelevant from afar, tries to hide behind the night. Take haste when you see a star writing in sunlight, for a warning of fragility mocks the madman’s fragile might.

~Ollie

[calculatedchaotic]

get me out of here

this thing in my hands has poisoned my blood

i can feel a cold rushing numbness

as it creeps and creeps flowing up and up

into my brain (i think i’m going insane)

and seeps and seeps til there’s nothing but mush

all crud and i can’t think

a constant blink

pink and grey matter drips from my ears

pushing everything away

how does someone say they know

in a terrible world of comatose

this beautiful plan, unrepairable

i’m drowning in our sweat

i’d better not fight it

we’ll all be the same soon

can’t you see someone poisoned us?

i need to breathe please please

let me breathe without wires and nails

let me finally live on an exhale.

~Ollie

[calculatedchaotic]

The Masked Lady

I have done a terrible thing.

A hollow confession

falls on full hearts—

what a sound!

It's a small city.

i am guilty.

She walked, and i walked,

chasing and running,

growing and dying.

paper mache disguises

hiding what she was.

She was human.

alive. breathing.

dwelling in this city.

This is community!

our masks may look different

but they are all made from

Dead-trees and

poisonous glue.

We walk hand in hand,

fears on fears,

Toxic breath in a child’s death.

i am not scared of you.

You are my friend.

living in this little city

we cross paths.

i lost a baby tooth

tripping over a pothole,

but you blindly trust

a declining memory.

i have been rehabilitated.

but i remain guilty.

My galaxy,

flung fast from a bang

always collides

with you.

we are both forever changed,

and for that

I am sorry.

~Ollie

[calculatedchaotic]

Forbidden/Unwanted

Do you think in the underworld 

they are still in love?

Is there any point in the fields 

Of Elysium, where there is 

no reason to mourn what could but 

never will be. 

They only know the heartbreak of a 

fall unbroken by the sea.

Can unconditional love survive,

Tepid and gentle, free of conditions, 

lying soft, pillows of sublimity—

Can something so demented live 

in the fields of Elysium?

Even a king’s love is strangled,

Twisted off its branch before ripeness,

His subjects should fare no better. 

So are they there together? If 

love is the hand that placed the coins 

under their tongues and sent them off---

wretchedly, veritably,

wholeheartedly---

Would they welcome it with open arms,

Open gates and no shoes, running free?

No deed bad enough to keep them 

from this eternity,

The torture comes from the absence of you. 

Would such a love be caught dead in

 the fields of Elysium?

~Ollie

[calculatedchaotic]

Her Statue

I spent years pressing the cold, wet, dirt into something lovable.

Does her flesh show approval?

I sculpted it that way.

Those curls defy gravity,

the stone is soft and bouncy on her head.

She is radiant,

like a sunbeam caught in stained glass.

She is stuck in a chapel window,

undecidedly holy.

She looks just like her statue.

She looks closer at the clay,

I must have made a mistake;

I hope she can forgive me.

She is as generous as solaris,

she is as grateful as me.

“Thank you,” thank you! 

She is good,

the protagonist, incapable of error.

She looks just like her statue.

We leave the garden together,

the hero and her sidekick,

when I return

she is broken on the ground

in a pile of dust and shards.

The sculptor and her statue.

I found dust in her hair.

She says she’s sorry.

She says her statue was perfect,

like a pond without wind 

and a mother without children—

she is wicked.

Like a witch, like a monster, 

like a mother.

Not like our mother.

She looks nothing like her statue.

Her thank yous lack the sincerity of

the clay stuck under my fingernails,

her sorrys are drowned out by

the dust in my ears.

Now I should try to scrape myself immaculate,

but skin and bones aren’t so malleable;

if I cover myself in clay,

can I be a statue too?

~Ollie

[calculatedchaotic]

knowing

won’t you please give my insanity a name

to wrap around its neck

and stop it’s growth?

i have 

intense alexithymia

tell me what i should already know

will you please stop watching me?

i’m a pot of water

boiling with ferocious rage

i know it’s

intense alexithymia

tell me what i should already know.

get it together

use so much tape

when they poke 

and prod

i won’t feel a thing.

its intense alexithymia,

tell me what i should already know.

-ollie

[calculatedchaotic]

nuclear petals

her glow was drawn from her fingertips,

a fruit fertilized with nuclear waste

like a sunflower that licks her radiating lips

wishing for something else to taste.

they singed the moths that flocked to their light,

and their wings fell from ashes to dust.

the stars in the sky recognized their plight

and gave the moths their words of trust.

something stronger than welded metal.

something ablaze like a nuclear petal.