That feeling, once granted in
brings warmth and a violet hue
It beads my eyes, of now burned through
pin cushion medicine
Sink and spike; seek my next vein
blood pass sick, a thousand fold
Euphoric minds cannot be told
life’s truth for the mundane
For now, all wretched is calm;
escaped, sugared in our minds
Spines of water softly grinds
when oral love embalms
Indescribable, this love
when above the old, gray world
Skies glittered, pinked and pearled
and it sings just like a dove
But treading down, weary and shrill
I will gently start to cry
I’ll start to ask, ‘shall I die?’
for my life on Marigold Hill.
Author’s Note:
This piece is a poem written for my novel, also titled My Life on Marigold Hill. The story revolves around a young man named Oliver who navigates substance abuse and addiction, relationships, and years of grief.
Olivia Costa | 15 | Port St. Lucie, FL | @stinkiebootyfart on TikTok
