|
Details |
Olivia Sorgini Poem
What Is Love?
In my dramas it’s so sweet and always seems to have me on the edge of my seat but… that’s not quite what I see. I grew up in a shattered household. Parents separated before I could read. Hate so deeply seeded you wonder if you’re forced to choose sides in a war of despise. Forced to choose and mediate. The go between because they can’t seem to communicate. Given twisted visions of the love and forced to envision if this is just some. Hoping and dreaming to have love like you see on the screens, but forced back to reality by the arguments between. Parents who can’t get along long enough to be in the same room for moments in your life that feel like achievements to you. But what is love? I’d like to know the truth. Cause to a kid from a broken home, it feels there’s no use. Love feels like a means to an end. Something that’ll break as soon as it truly begins. I look around and see toxic behaviors and then… what happens to them all? They end up broken. Why would I put myself through that when I’ve seen it before? I know what’ll happen, I don’t need to settle a score. So what is love? I hear it’s supposed be this great thing. But from I’ve seen, it’s no call for celebration. It’s just a temptation. It will be over soon, there’s no hesitation. So is this love I’m feeling or just admiration? It’s so convoluted, I start to feel stupid. My feelings so lost from my broken delusion paired with disappointing illusions. So what is love? I need to find what the truth is.
Copyright © Olivia Sorgini | Year Posted 2024
|
Details |
Olivia Sorgini Poem
Trauma
It is something not a lot of people can empathize with. It is as if it was the victim's fault for turning out like this. The victims' fault for letting their fragile hearts get shattered into a million pieces, unsure of which one to follow. Their fault their soul was cracked like the screen protector on their phones. Their fault their mental health is gasping for a breath of fresh air, turning purple by the second, drowning in their own self-despair. Drowning in the love they wish to receive but “who could love broken me” is always thought of because love is something only seen in dreams to broken beings. Love is a foreign concept, only seen in rom-coms that are idolized. Teaching us to never settle for less but, then trauma grabs our necks and chokes us till we’re gasping and grasping at anything we can get. Settling for anything in fear of what will happen if we wish, because hopes and dreams are only seen being achieved on TV. So our traumatic testing starts. Searching for events that leave you scarred… Check! Trust issues and broken heart… Check! Never being able to know your worth… Check! But the problem with this constant traumatic testing is that it keeps us guessing. Why do we need the lesson on how to live when the world won’t change, even if we are locked in a cage of a jest that complicates the next lest we betray the best? But let me guess. You think trauma is fake. “You are a teen, what do you have to be anxious about? All you have to deal with is school. Just wait until you're in the real world” They say this to belittle our struggles when they monopolize on our failures and betray our self-worth.
Copyright © Olivia Sorgini | Year Posted 2024
|
Details |
Olivia Sorgini Poem
The tears fall from terror taking my tragic soul
To teach a lesson to the tactless villans of
Today without remorse for the tragedy
I have witnessed
Never will I be the same after I was slain by
The knife of disdain on this wretched day
Always wished to get away from the pain
But never given the same as I pay
The power of death hangs over my head
Like a knife about to be slit but I never get
To see the light of day after what I have
Paid to rue the day I was trained
Pain holds my head under the water
As regret fills the sink to
Make me think of what crime I have
Committed on the day it rained
I will always remember the “BANG”
Of the trap like the tap of the rain
I once loved, ruined by the mistakes
Of my youth as I replay the memories
The smell of regret on my sweat
As I fret over stuff I know I can’t change,
Joined with the sound of the
Children forever young
I kick myself to feel the pain I deserve
For the pain, I have served to the
Kids in the woods I have slain
With my words
Copyright © Olivia Sorgini | Year Posted 2024
|
Details |
Olivia Sorgini Poem
What do you see when you look in the mirror?
Do you see the beauty that you hold?
Or maybe of your soul?
Do you see your beauty?
What do you see when you look in the mirror?
Do you see the invisible scars?
The ones that cut so deep they sting with a slicing sensation that is scary?
Do you see your pain?
What do you see when you look in the mirror?
Do you see your flaws on display?
Open to the world, never really hidden away?
Do you see your flaws?
What do you see when you look in the mirror?
Do you see your insecurities burning holes in the rest
Of the pants that no longer fit over the growing pit in your chest?
Do you see your insecurities?
I really do wanna know what you see…
Do you see the true you?
Or the one in your head you often misconstrue?
Do you see what I see?
I see beauty bursting at the seams
Teeming with what is happy to be relieved
Of the chains holding back “taking one for the team”
I scream so you hear me hoping to be retrieved
You’re amazing!
I hope now you see
Copyright © Olivia Sorgini | Year Posted 2024
|
Details |
Olivia Sorgini Poem
Broken fragments of my memory, scattered across the floor after you shattered my perfect image. Scattered reminisce of unwillingness to change for me even when you know you are wrong. The edges cut my feet as I walk out because I can no longer take the constant feeling of talking to a brick wall when you just won’t listen to me at all. I'm tired of always having to be the one to call because it feels like you're ten feet tall. So high above my eyes, I have to scream, scream into the sky, so you’ll listen. For once please just take a seat and listen. Please at least act like it. Act like you care what words will come next like you are on the edge of your seat in distress—waiting for the next important thing I’ll address like it is the best. But I know that will never happen. You will never treat me like a voice worth hearing because the only one that matters is you right? The world revolves around you and the only reason to wake in the morning is to appease you. Isn’t that right? Am I hot or cold? Because it seems like rhymes won’t help you realize that you are blind to the world around you. You only see what conveniences you and anything else must just be see-through. But I’ve lost the point entirely, you see it’s easy to get lost when I constantly have to decipher your maze of emotions and pick you apart with caution so as not to trigger a loss of composure. But, I am tired. The cuts are starting to bleed and my heart is beginning to scream. A solemn hymn of sorrow said to ring throughout is borrowed just for our self-centered Pharoah. But I'm sorry. I went too far now. We can't risk hurting your feelings even a fraction of what trauma you have caused as I feel like I'm walking on lava. Sinking into the pain and all my acting is in vain because you won't refrain from your ignorance. But no matter the weather we will stay together because you are all I have tethered to my broken pieces.
Copyright © Olivia Sorgini | Year Posted 2024
|
Details |
Olivia Sorgini Poem
My love for you is unparalleled
Like the stars in the dim-lit sky
My love for you is incomparable
And can never be denied
My love for you is ever-flowing
In abundance at your request
My love is cataclysmic
Exploding out of my chest
My love for you is stupid
With the idiotic things I do
My love for you is so chaotic
But still, somehow I love you
My love for you is never failing
I can never turn away
My love for you is always paling
In comparison to everyone else
But my love for you is ever-standing
I can never turn away
My love for you is always caring
So please just give me the sign
My love for you is unfaltering
Withstanding through and through
But most of all my love…
My love, it is for you
Copyright © Olivia Sorgini | Year Posted 2024
|
Details |
Olivia Sorgini Poem
I used to be concerned as to if my voice would be heard. As if the silence I've been hearing has been searing my mouth shut. I'm always leaning to yell my feelings out and shout from the rooftops so that someone will hear my cries. But my lies hold more weight as I’m barely skating by and my time is running low, I feel this is my final show. Am I enough? I ask myself, am I? Do my words even mean anything in the grand scheme? Do they all have a theme? As I scream I realize I've been deemed worthless. And what hurts is that I feel it too. I've been thinking about it longer than you. No, your words no longer hurt. Everything you say to me I've said it five feet from the mirror with tears in my eyes. I try to say that I'm fine when in reality I feel like dying. Not in a suicide way but metaphorically speaking. I don't want to leave this world as my thoughts can’t forget the regret of what others will think. I can't even have thoughts of the sort as I always feel that I'm falling short of expectations. I wonder if you think it too. Do you? It's probably all in my head. But as I go to lay my head on my bed the dread makes another appearance. I must ask myself the question again. Am I enough? Will I ever be? I always feel like I'm tripping over my own feet as I’m wishing for solid ground as I'm fishing for a better mentality to life. I never meant to become this way. My traumas are monopolizing and tumbling over like dominos in the misery that is my life. I feel light when I let go of these worries but they creep back in like they have no remorse for my struggles. My legs buckle under constant stress. Why do I have to be the one that puts up a front? I want to be able to express my misery, but with my history, I’ll be deemed weak. I hate that feeling. Feeling like I’m never good enough. Like I am the reason the world will stop turning. Like everyone else’s faults are mine when in time I hope I’ll realize they aren’t. I’ve been deceived to believe I’m the problem. But what I have failed to realize is that my life is a gift that many are happy to have received. I am no burden to others like I’ve been tricked into thinking. I am not the reason for their troubles. It Is Not My Fault. I was never the bad one here. It was the people around me that made me feel like I had no worth. The ones that made my voice seem quiet. I am forced to remember what I’ve been told by the ones who truly love me for me. “I am not perfect, but I’m perfectly me.” and that is all that truly matters in my convoluted misery.
Copyright © Olivia Sorgini | Year Posted 2024
|
Details |
Olivia Sorgini Poem
I stress about the times I have failed
Agonizing about what I can’t change
Melting into mush as solid as my self-worth
No, I don’t regret it
Overall it was liberating
Tonight I might finally get to sleep soundly
Obtrusive thoughts won’t cloud my nightmares
Knives in my back can finally be removed
At least I was happy for a moment
You’re proud of me now, right?
Copyright © Olivia Sorgini | Year Posted 2024
|
Details |
Olivia Sorgini Poem
Why am I like this?
I ask myself this question every day. Why does my mind twist scenarios that swirl through my brain like the ballerinas I once idolized? It dwindles my confidence til what? I must remind myself that I am a beautiful smart person, full of potential yet I’m still ostracized and ruined. I must recount the days I feel like fluid on a crashing river bank. At peace with my surroundings, I stay true to my original path. Hoping I last to see the day I am praised for being me. Never faltering I see the end in sight, but wait! That’s just a mirage my mind has created to keep me running in the right direction. I’m stuck always prevented from creating the real me. My mind forces me to rethink that question. As I question my grasp on reality or is it all just another mirage set to trick me? I tick like a bomb about to blow and I’m sick, my self-esteem is feeling low.
Why do I appease others at the risk of my own self-confidence?
I must remember why I started in this convoluted mess. I must address why my stress has been through the roof with the tests my mind is creating. I must guess why I’m straining to find a breath in this jest that is my life. I must ask why my chest feels so tight with this feeling of spite against my own well-being. My fight-or-flight never kicks into gear while my self-worth is getting pummeled to the ground by the sound of my dwindling self-image. I am surrounded by nothing but silence while I might as well be flightless cause of these guises I am covered by.
Copyright © Olivia Sorgini | Year Posted 2024
|
Details |
Olivia Sorgini Poem
Little girls still living in their little worlds are told to sit pretty, smile wide, and don’t talk back. They are taught to grow up before they should because these little girls go through grow-up things. Little girls in their little worlds are called names for being “too provocative”, but then called names for being “too conservative”. Little girls in their little worlds can’t walk out of the house without being looked at by the male species because they have to change for the men who run this world. Little girls are told to aim high, but not too high because the “chances are low” in a male-dominated world. Little girls are shot down from their dreams before they can even start because who would listen to a docile woman over a dominant man? Little girls get praised when they survive in a male-dominated field but still get paid less than their male counterparts for better performance. Women will never compare to their male counterparts because those same little girls who are told to aim high get shot out of the sky by society’s wicked eye. But, still, we try to survive in this world of unachievable expectations, because, in reality, we want to be seen and appreciated.
Copyright © Olivia Sorgini | Year Posted 2024
|
|