In love.

Heart pounds
it hurts my head.
Roll out
trapped in this bed
Goosebumps
sweat down my spine.
Promise me
tell me "your mine".
Shivering
fumbling with these words.
Wishing, praying
"don't leave this girl".
Stars that glow
Love that stings
Coldest hands
tire swings.
Barley believing I'm alive
In disbelief my heart survived.
Bruised and broken,
fragile fragments.
Bandages made of hope
blowing dreams to clear the smoke.
Slowly falling
Need your arms.
Never lucky
Need some charm.
Be bold
Be brave.
Be a hero
Make a save.
Hold her tightly
Don't let go.
She's a ship wreck
She's lost her know.
Can't breathe
Can't see
Blacked out
Help, please.
I see a light
A smell a rose
Eyes playing awful tricks
in cahoots with my nose.
Be still, don't move.
Be one
to prove.
Throat's dry.
Swallow hard.
I built a wall
to call my guard.
I tore it down
I let you by.
Please keep me safe
Please keep me dry.
I love you more
with everyday.
You are my dearest
In every way.

I love finding old stories "The heart that got lost"

This is not a story about a princess that got locked in a tower. Nor is it a story about a mean, old hag who drinks a potion. Or a magical sword stuck in a stone. No, this is the story of a pure, young heart that fell down and decided to stay.




In a sad little place, where sun never shines, where flowers never bloom and the wind was always cold. And whenever you might pray or wish or hope all you got in return were sad, teary eyes, a young, brave heart longed to roam.





You see, this young heart was different than most. It was sad and naïve and broken more times than you could count on your fingers a toes. It wondered if perhaps, if it waited long enough, someone might take it in and treat it as their own. With tenderness and respect. But, most importantly, love it. It wanted to be loved more than anything in its wildest dreams. This heart was undeniably lonely.





One day the heart could not take it. This feeling of hopelessness had gone on too long. And with that, it fled the sad little place in search of something so much more. Love.



It climbed mountains and treaded through marshy land. Over the steepest hills, and descending the steepest slopes. It lasted through thunder and rain and flew threw clouds with no consideration for the rules. And only ever stopping for one thing. The stars.



Every night the heart would lie beneath them and watch as they lit the darkened canvas that was the sky until it became so tired that it collapsed into the deepest of slumbers.



One morning the heart awoke from it’s star lit slumber to find itself in the most unexplainable position. The heart had wound up far out at sea, afloat without a sign of help for miles on end.


“Help! Someone, please rescue me! I have become lost in the sea!” it pleaded quite loudly.


For days the heart swam through the sea, searching for help. But, alas it found none.

The days grew longer it felt to the heart as it began to realise that its hopelessness was a much larger reality than expected. It floated in the sea and wept sweet tears and said

“Why oh why has love forsaken me so. All I have ever asked from life is to be cared for as someone’s own. But, it seems even that is too much to ask from the heavens and hell.”

Above in the night sky a sweet young star stared down at the sea and watched over it’s creatures. As it stared down it heard the faintest sound of a sobbing heart. It searched and shouted down from the sky

“Who is it that cries in my sea so sweet?”

“It is me,” replied the heart “the broken heart who cries in your sea. I’m very sorry bright star, but I have searched so hard for love and it seems as though I am hopeless. Leave me be to wither away. I wish not return to shore and continue my lonely life.”

The star began to smile. It reached down and lifted the heart into its arms and said ever so softly

“Silly heart, you can never find love if you go searching. Love is a feeling that must find you.”

The heart looked up at the star and replied

“But, it feels as if it may never find me. Perhaps it has given up on me.” As it began to cry again

The star wiped the tears from the heart and kissed it on the cheek.


“I disagree. I believe love has found you a home after all” It whispered with a smile.

The heart looked down upon the sea and realised that even though it had been lifted up into caring arms, it had really fallen for the star.

“Star,” said the heart “do you love me?”

“Heart, I have fallen hopelessly and helplessly in love with you. And if that’s the case I dare not seek help nor hope.” The star replied with a smile as wide as the sea it watched over.

From that night onward, the star and the heart lived high in the sky and watched over the sea in perfect peace and ever lasting love.

And it turns out to be the heart that got lost
found more than it could ever have hoped for.

Pride is the colour of my shirt.

This can't be luck, it must fate,
to feel so high and feel so great.
To see the world from all the clouds,
to know the world inside and out.
My heart's somewhere in my throat
i cannot sing a single note.
My stomach has dropped 6 feet down
but the butterflies still float around.
How can that be?
How is it so?
Someone tell me, i must know.
When you look at me i fumble with my thoughts.
It's such a shame, they're all I've got.
I'll never claim that they're worth all the ocean's treasures
it simply isn't true.
They ain't worth air, they ain't worth dirt or the sky's
sweet tint of blue.
You can have them, mold them, cut and paste.
Whatever suits your fancy taste.
I won't feel bad if you throw them out.
I won't scream or even shout.
In fact if you did I'd think some more.
Or if I can't, I'll go explore
By the way, brace your hands.
Mine are colder than Greenland.
So here i am, live and loud.
So in love with you
and proud.

:)

I wanted to say it.

I'm creative.
If I have to do anything, it's out of the box.
I'm smart.
I don't have all the answers but the ones I do I consider profound.
To some extent anyways.
I've never considered myself beautiful.
Maybe attractive, but never beautiful.
I am an explorer.
My favourite jeans say so.
I wanna find new things, things people have never seen.
I wanna write something considered beautiful to the whole world.
I'm a comedian.
Scouts honor.
I love making people laugh.
I love emotion. All kids in any context.
From bitter sweet to heart warming and back again.
I wanna see it all.
I wanna feel it on every inch of me.
I love movies.
I really do. That's why acting comes so natural.
I love being other people, seeing other people react to things
differently than I might.
I love people for that matter.
The way we're all put together, no two the same.
The way our bodies work, our minds think.
It's incredible.
To be able to connect with people, that's probably one of my
bigger passions. To have a conversation and know exactly how
someone feels and what they mean.
It's fantastic.
I hardly ever feel it and when I do, it...
i don't know. It just feels right.

I never feel right.
I miss it.
And then we talked and we connected.
At least I think we did.
And it just felt right.
It felt amazing.

That's what I want you to know about me.
That's what I wanted to say.

It started with waking you up from a nap in the sun
on the bench outside of an old theater.
It turned into talking about life and depression
and how "i totally get you".

It slid into running through the rain and hiding in
a library confessing things i never thought I'd ever say,
to waiting out a storm in a coffee shop, holding hands
and keeping warm and safe in each others arms
asking "what's happening"

It was a new record for falling.

It was a walk to no where and a kiss in the rain.
It was a connection and a handful and more of stupid jokes.

It was the most meaningful bus ride I've ever taken.
It was trusting someone again for the first time.

It was holding hands again.
It was kisses good bye i didn't want to happen
because it was a day that should have, could have lasted
forever.

It was being happy.

It was the best day.

The band

Oh old guitar
play me a verse, won't you?
Strum up a tune
or write a new virtue.
Recite me some chords
teach me the chorus.
How's that refrain go?
Never mind, I don't think I'd like to know.

Here goes piano, showing off.
We get it, now that's enough.
What's that you say?
Ray Charles is rolling in his grave?
You can say hello
because that's where you will go
if you don't shut up.

Mr.Percussion just showed up
a whole hour late, with beer in his cup.
"Let's get thing started, i gotta party at 10"
Listen we're not saying it again
the practice starts at 7, not at 8.
Not that we could ever let him go
his solo's are so great.

Microphone is the corner
jotting down a song.
We try and tell him that we're starting
but his attention is far gone.
Composing the next symphony,
for all the world to sing along.

Bass guitar is fast asleep
his girlfriend dumped him for some creep.
We can tell he needs a cry
but we'll never see it from this guy.
A hardcore rocker, that's his name.
To him the music ain't no game.

Our practices are not worth gold
far less than perfect, so we've been told.
But when the crowd comes and hears us jam
they turn to others and say "god damn"

Why?
It's simple.
We're the band.

"Have a seat, Olivia."

Today i busily worked away at my math homework in
MSIP(study hall) until i was finished. This was followed by
what i had planned on being resting up for the lunch period
baseball tryout and last 2 periods of class before heading home.

But, I was wrong.

I was called down to my guidance counselor's office
to what started out as being a friendly discussion
of my course selections and plans after high school.

When all that was said and done my guidance counselor
turns to me and says: "Now Olivia, Some of your friends
have brought to my attention that perhaps you may have needed
to see me because they were concerned with your well being."

I sorta froze up. Why was someone concerned? Besides the
obvious bipolar, i hid it pretty well. Or at least, I thought I did.

We talked for a good half hour or more. She wants me to
talk to her regularly so i feel comfortable and so I don't
off myself. My words, not hers.

She's nice. I'm just...I don't like telling people. People i know,
people who affect my future especially.

After I left i started thinking. If someone who claimed to be
my friend was concerned, why didn't they approach me first.
Why aren't they dealing with what ever about me is bugging them
through me? I was a little offended that someone wouldn't think
that I should know others are worried before anyone else.

If that makes sense.

I'm confused.
I need a hug. A big one.

Miss

I have to be
without a doubt the most emotionally worn
out person in the world.

I'm in love with a person i have to be prepared
to never get to hold.

I have a father who doesn't believe in me.

An ex who's living everything i should be.

A writing career based on depression.

I wanna kill myself but, i can't.

I wanna be pretty but, i'm not.

I wanna write the world's most beautiful
monologue but, i forget how.

I wanna be happy but, i doubt if i'll ever smile again.

And i miss everything good about life.

I miss it so much :(

And the winner is...

Today i received a letter in the mail.
Mail is probably one of my greatest joys in life.
The letter was to inform me that I, Ms.Biggar
(as the letter addressed me) have been chosen
as one of the 4 finalists in the Bernice Adam's Awards.
In my city this award highlights local members of the
community who address issues, educate and most
importantly send a positive message about the arts.

I have been nominated for Outstanding Youth Award.
At 14 years of age my achievements are ones important
and inspiring enough to some people to be nominated for
an award showcasing young talent and sending me home with
a scholarship if i win.

I have done the following:

-Member of Galt Little Theater Alumni
-Past children's group member
-Past young adults preforming arts program member
-Front of house
-Lighting
-Makeup
-Assistant stage manager
-Runner
-Apprentice of children's group
-Co writer of 'Txt U Later' (contracts in work for publishing)
-Original Director of 'Txt U Later'
-Musical and Arts council St.Andrew's Public School
-Arts Nights+Christmas Concerts Lead MC
-Arts Nights+Christmas Concerts participant
-4th/3rd trombone St.Andrew's Senior Jazz Band (gold provincial winner+soloist)
-4th trombone St.Andrew's Senior+Junior Concert band (silver+ provincial winner)
-Jr Scholar's achievement writing competition in school and regional winner
for poetry and short story
-St.Andrew's drama club participant
-Makeup for GCI's Anything Goes production

And more to come.


I want this bad.
I want to be a starlet.

My Own Hallelujah

I've been running far and wide
Trying to keep up with the tide.
But slowly, surely, i have lost my way.

So i tried to swim my troubles out,
But i started to drown and scream and shout.
Now my voice is a forgotten hallelujah.

And still i tried to win the war
I built a city on this shore.
So the ocean came and knocked it down.

I climbed the mountain and tried to escape
But god saw through my plan's poor shape.
He pushed and pulled me till i saw the ground.

Never have i questioned fate
But lately fate seems too great
For simple me to ever beat it out.

I will die a humble death.
No ceremony and hushed, sad breaths.
Just me and soil screaming hallelujah.

So thank you love and thank you life
For teaching me the wrongs and rights.
Good bye and promise me a hallelujah.

I wish i was done

I hate love.
I just want to smile like i should.

I never asked to be hurt.
I only gave enough to be happy.
But apparently the price has increased.

I am inspired. Poem title: People

"I would rather be ashes than dust! I would rather that my spark should burn out in a brilliant blaze than it should be stifled by dry rot. I would rather be a superb meteor, every atom of me in magnificent glow, than a sleepy and permanent planet. The proper function of man is to live, not to exist. I shall not waste my days in trying to prolong them. I shall use my time."

Jack London
American Author



Wide eyed wonder.
Watch me stare.
A baby dearest.
Someone cares.
Holy spirit, holy ghost.
A story book to some means the most.
Graceful dancer flows and spins.
Ballerina,jazz,swing king.
A lone cold ranger.
Walks the line.
A jive disk jockey.
"You're on the line".
Pageant queen with answers for all.
Starving, tired, trips and falls.
A trailer trash kid.
You gotta have hope.
Religious rebels.
Now he's the pope.
"the planet's dying!"
Hey, thanks Al Gore.
Straight A student.
GPA of 4.0.
New England Patriots quarterback.
New girlfriend, now with half the fat.
Old story teller on his stoop.
Cancer ridden, AA group.
Diamond ring lady.
Freshly divorced.
Heroin addict.
"Man, I've got no choice."
People passing everyday.
Guess that's what you get

When you take the subway