Michelle Oliveri

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Poetry

Love me for me, not the body you see
No desire for physical intimacy
Gentle kisses and caring touches
Enough to reach comfort but in society is greatly outnumbered
Sexual attraction encumbered in “normality”

Searching for someone to understand
Love not always measured by a caressing hand
Seeking validity, fitting the image of “normalcy”
Defined through desire for sexual activity in todays society

What kind of world would it be without physical intimacy?
The question that haunts the terms of asexuality
Body buffering — bluffing in the moment of intimacy
Uncomfortable with fulfilling the expectations of another

Something that can…


Poetry

TW: Eating Disorder

Distorted object in the mirror
When too close triggers intense fear
A gentle tear slipping down a now hallow face
Wanting to be the embodiment of grace
Can’t stand to give myself comfort
Not even a warm embrace
Brim filled eyes clawing skin to bone
Impossible to hone in on a single flaw
In agonizing awe of model bodies
A pinch to lose an inch, quickly synch the waist
Swearing my weight defines my self worth
Withdrawing from the people around
Not a trace or a sound
Hatred overflowing, the battle forcing me to the ground
Self love fed into veins, an attempt to heal the remains
Flowers now grow from the scars, lifting spirits high above
No longer trying to fit the ideal glove


Poetry

When I talk about you there’s nothing bad to say
Anxious for thoughts to fade away
Heart grey like clouds on a rainy day

Thoughts racing to and fro
It’s impossible not to follow
For it feels like there’s a tight hold on my heart
Keeping me here — back at the start

Months feel as long as a year
Too drunk on tears and emotions to stand on my own
Waiting for a message on this damn phone

Holding on tight, fighting for something that is no longer there
Sometimes life just isn’t fair
Where did the good times go?
Now you’re…


Poetry

A tea in one hand, a book in the other
Watching the snow cover the sidewalk
Hearing nothing but white noise as people endlessly talk

Mouths moving, impossible to follow
Chest feeling heavy, difficult to swallow
Breathing becoming far from steady; feeling close to impossible
The chances of coming back to reality highly improbable

Head racing, hands shaking and becoming cold
Trying to look normal in the crowded space — trying to remember what I was told
Trace the outlines of each finger, distract my mind from the trigger

Breathing in, counting to five redundantly until I don’t have to…


Poetry

You left in peace; gentle kisses and long hugs
You didn’t shrug at my tears
This tugs on my heart strings
You gave my heart wings; it fluttered around like a butterfly

We didn’t end with a fight; no threat to use your might
Knowing I’d flinch at the sight of sudden movement
Counting the days since you went away
Wanting nothing but for you to come back — be here to stay

Days were never ending when you were near
Please make your way back my dear
I fear I’m lost in my mind again
Watch me descend into the bitter end…


A not so “happily ever after”

Photo by George Hiles on Unsplash

Growing up I always pictured my family as the definition of perfect. The family that lives in a nice home on a quiet street, with parents who love endlessly while raising two children and caring for the family dog. Yes, that definition of perfect. We would go on road trips together and walks every evening, until one day it was no longer perfect. My mother and father began to fight, my sister and I no longer wanted to be home, and family time came to an end. Eventually, so did living under the same roof. The picture-perfect family crumbling until…


Poetry

TW: Sexual Assault

Photo by Maria Krisanova on Unsplash

200, 250, or maybe 300 pounds
I can’t seem to remember anything but the sound
of your forceful voice insisting that I have no choice
Saying “let it happen and it will pass with ease” as I beg you to please stop
You got tired of my protest
At that point I started to feel hopeless

Tears streaming down my face, thoughts screaming in my mind
Throat clenched, I flinched the first time your hand gripped tight
It was clear I shouldn’t put up a fight
It might have triggered something far worse
I didn’t want to know the extent of…


Poetry

Photo by M.T ElGassier on Unsplash

My dear, your OCD will make you feel like you’ve lost control
Especially when people come and people go
It leaves a hole deep inside — a void and the terror of the unknown
but my dear, we are raised to show no fear

How many times I have been told to take my emotions and harbour them alone
To heal on my own because apparently struggle shouldn’t be shown
Even if it tears me down to nothing but skin and bone
Honestly, this mentality should be thrown out the window
It’s not a sin to show how you feel, your emotions are real…


Poetry

Photo by _Mxsh_ on Unsplash

My dear, clear those intrusive thoughts from your head
Turn off the lights and tuck yourself in that warm bed
Wrap that fluffy blanket tightly around you and cuddle that stuffed animal that you thought you out grew

The only thing that provides comfort when you have a rough night
When your chest is collapsing; the intense feeling that it will burst right open at any given second
Succumbing to the deep pain you feel inside, not even crying can break the tide of overwhelming emotions

Scared to close your eyes because the intrusive thoughts can disguise themselves as dreams
when…


Creativity; a stress reliever or a stress creator?

Photo by Steve Johnson on Unsplash

During moments of inspiration the ability to create seems endless. Ideas flowing through the mind at high speed, passing too fast to keep track of. Ideas escaping the mind before getting the chance to write them down. Moments like this result in happiness and satisfaction with the creative side of the mind. Immediately feeling content as there is no sign of a creative block in the near future. Free from the stress and frustration of not knowing what to create because the possibilities seem endless. This side of creativity is inspiring; the best stress reliever.

Every period of inspiration is…

Michelle Oliveri

A girl who gets lost in her poetry. Follow my poetry journey on instagram✨@mich.poetry✨

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