About Olmali

"I suppose it will all make sense when we grow up."

Hey all,
I'm a sixteen year old kid living on the gray side of Oregon. I don't consider myself to be a poet, writer, or artist; my poems are just my method of self expression. I rarely write with a focus on word choice, rhythm, rhyming, or style. I prefer to just let it all flow. In my writings you will find raw emotion and and see a little bit of what my version of today is.

"Calvin: Look, a dead bird!
Hobbes: It must've hit a window.
Calvin: Isn't it beautiful? It's so delicate. Sighhh... once it's too late, you appreciate what a miracle life is. You realize that nature is ruthless and our existence is very fragile, temporary, and precious. But to go on with your daily affairs, you can't really think about that...which is probably why everyone takes the world for granted and why we act so thoughtlessly. It's very confusing. I suppose it will all make sense when we grow up.
Hobbes: No doubt.”

    Poems by Olmali

  • The Monster

    • Published: September 2018
    Poem About Fighting Through Anxiety

    in Mental Illness Poems

    Dear Anxiety,

    When they ask me what I am afraid of,
    I lie.


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    • Stories 2
    • Shares 1838
    • Favorited 59
    • Votes 364
    • Rating 4.72
    • Poem of the Day
    Featured Shared Story

    February 14, 2018 I landed myself in the hospital after I took 30 pain killers. I was in the hospital for 3 days and then I was transferred to a behavior ward with all other problem children....

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  • The Last Goodbye

    • Published: September 2016
    Poem About Never Getting The Chance To Say Goodbye

    in Death Moving On Poems

    I wasn't ready
    For that last goodbye.
    There's so much more
    I never got to say.


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    • Stories 0
    • Shares 207
    • Favorited 8
    • Votes 67
    • Rating 4.21
  • Stay With Me

    • Published: December 2015
    Poem About Begging Someone Not To End Their Life

    in STOP Suicide Poems

    How can I tell you
    How can I say

    What you'll miss


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    • Stories 0
    • Shares 62
    • Favorited 17
    • Votes 62
    • Rating 4.36

Collections by Olmali


  • Olmali
  • 1 year ago

So this really hit me. Every day of freshman year the only way I made it was by telling myself I could kill myself the next day. I told myself nothing mattered, seeing as I would be dead by December anyways. I set a date, November 15, 2016, to do it. And I remember nothing from that day. According to my attendance records I was absent from school that day (presumably faked being sick), but I have no recollection of any of it. It makes me really wonder what happened. I am in recovery, but sometimes bad thoughts come back. I haven't purged, cut, or burned myself or tried to break any bones as of May 2018.

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  • Olmali
  • 1 year ago

I have struggled with self-harm for years. I now consider myself to be in recovery, as I haven't cut or burned myself intentionally for a little over 4 months. I am reminded every day of what I overcame by the scars on my body, and sometimes, in all honesty, I hate them. I feel like they make me different and marked as someone who is “bad,” but I know absolutely none of this is true. Scars show where you've been, not where you're going, and just because I wear some of my past on the outside doesn't make me different. This poem was empowering to me. Thank you.

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