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Ollie Ward Poem
on the bus ride home
i dream of my parents
i pass by my grade school
i make enemies with the boy sitting across from me
i contemplate the bag of pills in my backpack
i contemplate starting over
i make friends with the girl in front of me
i watch her get off and walk to the variety store
i start a book
i call my mom
i make plans for the weekend
i plan to cancel them
i watch the trees go by
i think of the trees i used to climb
i could climb so high before i got so scared
i haven't left the ground in years
i think if i tried
i might find my feet rooted in place
Copyright © Ollie Ward | Year Posted 2023
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Ollie Ward Poem
I don't mean to make this anyone else's fault
I don't mean to go back there
but the bumblebee with the crooked wing in the parking lot
roasting on the asphalt and I looked away
you kept it in a takeout box with a leaf as shelter
we opened a jar of honey from the cellar
heard it pop, threatening the hot June air
it melted and stuck to your bumblebee's legs
I saw a monarch with its wings torn off stumbling towards the door
my father pulled me toward the car and my mother said a prayer
and i watched it through the rearview window
the forsythia started blooming the day the bumblebee died
we placed blossoms at its grave in the sandbox but I was
relieved to be free of the pity
we pulled apart dandelions and watched maggots swimming in the fluff
we tossed them into piles that we threw into the air until someone told us
to knock that off and go back inside
that only left enough time for you to pick up a fat green caterpillar and
gently place him in your pocket
Copyright © Ollie Ward | Year Posted 2023
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Ollie Ward Poem
Medicine doesn't heal
She stays in between
There is no heart left to beat,
she scooped it out and
ate it for breakfast
She hollowed out her bones,
savouring the last of the marrow
Sometimes, when it's dark
she wishes she had a heart
she could hear,
skin she could feel,
fat and muscle that didn't
pinch and twist and lock her in
this body
But when she wakes up
to do it all over again
She is almost positive
she is happier suffering like this
Copyright © Ollie Ward | Year Posted 2022
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Details |
Ollie Ward Poem
In a wireframe dress on a drooping pedestal
She is pretty and pink and easy to digest
He calls her sadness art
Smooths out all the sharpness of her
She is easy to look at
He grabs her wrists, nail bitten fingers
lacing up satin shoes
in the back of a grey room
In front of the mirror,
on the subway
He says, I will make you immortal,
don't you want to live forever,
aged fourteen?
Stay here, before your chest expands inside the corset and the
wires dig into your hips
The world cannot take this away
In these halls
she walks silently
Clutching a crumpled skirt
Laces the fading shoes in front of a mirror
She holds his gaze like a rope at the back of the theatre
He shakes his head, cases her in amber
Toe pointed forward, dust swirling around her
Forever waiting to jump
Copyright © Ollie Ward | Year Posted 2022
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