Late Night Poetry pt2

As said in my previous late night poetry post, sometimes I write some cool stuff at night. Today I decided to refine and edit, so that's just what I did.  With that, I present to you the somewhat cryptic Rubeola.

Rubeola

My mind was a void of empty space:

Ready for the fantasy of something that ended peacefully.

Ready for something that didn't involve tears.

Ready for happiness.

My mind previously left in shambles:

Yearned for something to counteract the insidious behavior of the previous inhabitant on my thoughts.

Yearned for a new thought to occupy my mind.

Yearned for happiness.

My mind was in need of self-healing:

Striving for a sense of security.

Striving for understanding of the complex emotions I felt.

Striving for happiness.

My mind was purely saddened by the thought of you:

Wishing for simplicity is the chaos you left within me.

Wishing for the anger to be assuaged.

Wishing for the happiness back, that you had so easily taken from me.

Have a good day,

Olivia 

Xoxo

Thoughts

  Do/did you have classes where the second the teacher would talk you mind would go numb? Personally, for me that class is science. The thoughts that flood my vacant mind, are those of rhymed whimsy. I can't help it, my right brain wants to run free and leave my left brain to learn, but sadly they are tied together like two kids participating in a three-legged-race. Whenever the right side acts up, it will command me to doodle or scribble all over the sides of my notes and or assignments. I like to think of those doodles as my compensating the "left-sidedness" of whatever we're learning. My doodles are anything from numbers depicting how many more dreadful seconds I have left until I'm free from the class, to poorly drawn flowers with swirls all down the margins of my paper(s).   

  On the flip side did/do you have a class where the second the teacher would talk, you would be sucked into the lesson faster that a valley girl to a Starbucks coupon? For me that is History. It's like a hour of story time, and from the minute my teacher opens her mouth I am sucked into a realty many years removed, but in that one class period, that lesson seems to coexist with that of the reality we are living. 

 Hope you're having a good day,
Olivia
xoxo 

A Little Bit of Late Night Poetry

    Sometimes when I can't sleep at night, I write, and sometimes when I re-read that writing in the moring, it's actually quite deep. So, without further introduction:

Elements 

I was the wind, always there and rarely heard.

 Words integrating uselessly without a second thought, and never comprehended.

I was the soft soil beneath their feet, pliable and moved when in the way. 

Only used to build people up and to not be acknowledged.

Add emotions to the wind and soil for a dust storm that disabled everything close to me.

 Embedding the nitty gritty that is my soul into everyone close to me,

 only to drive them away in a painful scene.

I hope you have a good night, 

Olivia 

xoxo

My First Post

      Hello, My name is Olivia, and writing is that of a release for me. I was born with the ability to convey what I think by using my words, and I intend to share whatever it is that is occupying my mind with you. Maybe if I'm feeling it that day you might even be able to relate to the insanity floating around my mind. 

And with that, I welcome you to 101 of my (better) thoughts!