Olivia

Bonjour, I'm Olivia.



Every now and then, I don't know what to do with compliments. I guess I could put them in a little jewelry box on my dresser where I keep my pretty things and take them out when I really need them... but mostly I just lose them in my purse even before I get home...either they fall out, or someone steals them from me, but I have no idea what happens to them. I think I just need someone who will give them to me in my bedroom, after I'm already home. But my room is already a mess, and I don't want anyone to see





You are the first one to care to discover me; you're the first one to see me. Everyone else has only gazed upon my shores from a distance and saw through me. As a faint shade of grey plain that melts into the sky its lover, I have been invisible before. But you eyes make my body blossom and bloom- everyone can tell that I'm alive from million miles away. And these thoughts are pretty, but I'm afraid that you will stop coming and I will fade away again.





And in these moods she wrote. She wrote because a tiny voice deep inside, screaming, and threatening, hoping and wondering. She was forever dreaming. And it was getting in the way of her reality.



You say you love rain, but you open your umbrella  when it rains. You say you love the sun, but you find a shadow spot when the sun shines. You say you love the wind, but you close the windows when the wind blows. This is why I'm afraid, you say you love me too.