Olivia Dodge
Bio
21 | Chicago
Stories (56/0)
I’m Writing A Book
VOL. 1 3/8/24 8:29pm I am writing with my father on my shoulder but his words do not sound like the snap of a Nikon like they once did (it is strange the way our voices lose their heft once we decide a palm provides more closure). His words used to have the grip of a safety strap, giving me the assurance to buy myself a cellophane-coated death without twitching, or tie my shoes the right way and not feel too useless about it. Now they sound like refrigerators in a grocery store, blaring in silence, a woman’s hush, soft embraces from– This is stupid.
By Olivia Dodge6 days ago in Writers
Memoir Through Time
3/29/24 8:19pm When I was twelve I went to therapy for the first time. When I was thirteen I decided to live. When I was thirteen he told me never to bring a black man in this house. When I was fourteen I decided that words meant more than action. When I was fifteen I changed my mind. When I was fifteen I met my second therapist. When I was sixteen I decided to live. When I was sixteen I became my mom’s mom. When I was sixteen he told me that everything would change. When I was seventeen I believed him. When I was seventeen I met my third therapist. When I was eighteen I decided to live. When I was eighteen I didn’t know what that meant. When I was nineteen I moved away. When I was nineteen I met my fourth therapist. When I was nineteen I fell in love. When I was twenty I decided to live. When I was twenty I told my dad that I loved him. When I was twenty I told myself that any response was a good response. When I was twenty-one I called my grandparents. When I was twenty-one I decided to love.
By Olivia Dodge10 days ago in Poets
3/1/24 10:48pm
3/1/24 10:48pm I’ve Grown Feet This Month and when my teeth become too brittle to take on shards of ice, I will rely on those who whittled them down, suckling at citrus from the vines of motherhood, beckoning a wife, a woman whose lips curl in agony but showcase content, like a curtain closing each breath, the burning on my knees leading me to water, I remember this, I know these chips, I taste this wire wrapped tightly around each stem, fingering the seeds like little tiny bones, a man in the corner, telling us he has lived here all his life, grown to foot the shores and eye the birds, swallow shards whole, because they will melt in the end
By Olivia Dodge19 days ago in Poets
Compile Your Beliefs
February 4th 2024 11:18am — Compile your beliefs and they will sprout in soil— a glazed despair wrinkled in meditation / sit by the running water / walk home from work and wonder what it is like to be human / torn to bits these desires float but the adjectives do not come naturally anymore / be still by the rear doors / look in the mirrors but do not uphold the person inside / medication cannot hold the hands of derision / shame will bury itself between your ribs / we have known for some time / find solace in ugly things / statuesque ribbon used to tie our wrists together / will they leave bruises? / will they finally ripen in the sun? / will the fruits of ancestors be preserved for my children?
By Olivia Dodge20 days ago in Poets
New Year
The new year is making your cheeks warm and you can’t remember the last time your heart didn’t race in the silence. It’s so hard to tell them how you would drink poison if it meant their legs still carried your weight and it’s been months since you felt safe here — in this cushion of love which means to provide it nonetheless. In this room you scream at death’s door and beg for answers to questions you have not yet asked! You shriek and the walls rumble and it is felt through miles how this plea is being held by your mother’s hands.
By Olivia Dodge6 months ago in Poets
10/1/22
Oh it’s here again creeping and crawling and scratching and my nose is running but my feet cannot my mind does not keep up with the keys they are too soft the world is shattering around me nothing is making sense I’m feeling helpless again I’m feeling alone again the sun is setting again oh I’m not sure how long this will last are you busy can you talk can I cry in front of you just this once that’s okay I’ll be okay yes I’m sure I promise I’m not lying oh it’s dark again wailing and revving and gusting the windows scream inside our home I am sinking into the cushion you don’t need to pull me up I can live here like this just like this scratching and wailing yes that’s okay the keys are steady ringing my heart is beating my lungs are expanding my blood is flowing my mind is swimming this means I am alive oh yes it’s here again this being of cold air he will see to it that I am taken care of see he has thrown a blanket on the ground and this will be enough
By Olivia Dodge8 months ago in Poets
Combination of November Cold and Autumn Storms
November brings cold before it arrives— an appetizer to snowstorms and the webs between my toes cracking like caramelized oil. I lie in bed and my heart aches. The angels in our walls have hidden, a collage missing blue completed only when the sun sleeps in early day, and the forecast shows a break in clouds but this thunder is unforgiving. Inches away relief scoffs in my ears with bright lights. I never noticed the trim on the ceiling; did you? Abstract vases, abstract voices, will you please release this air inside of me for one moment— quietly, softly, do not disturb relief. Hung on the north wall it now finds rest, the centerpiece for guests. I will reach out and I will hold my breath and I will try my best to place my heart aside. I invite you to stand and observe— see this darkness drown the floors. Panic feels familiar beneath my skin, manifesting behind my eyes and should I check my pulse? As I suspected. How the need for words squirms in my throat. Are you still awake? November is here and purple paint is standing aside giving room for small light to grow. Breathe this breath in heaven and do not let it go. Give me your hand, take it from my chest. I feel I will implode with silent sobs if this warmth does not touch me. Will you hold me? Just until I fall asleep.
By Olivia Dodgeabout a year ago in Poets