Victoria Olivares

My Monster

Victoria Olivares

Anxiety: I live with it, and it lives with me. It traps me in a little box and won’t let me breathe. That’s when I remind myself to be strong, and then I’ll be set free.

The Boy Who Cried Wolf

Victoria Olivares

You told me you loved me, then denied it. So many times. I heard you try to hate me the day you decided to leave; I didn’t believe you. I didn’t care. I had enough of you too. I was finally free.

Old Love

Victoria Olivares

“To be young and in love,” they say. All I see is kids getting married, thinking it’s love, then months later getting divorced. “To be old and in love,” I say to those whose love isn’t superficial.

A Story?

Victoria Olivares

You want a story? Go write yourself a story. Nothing in life comes just because you want it; work for it. Write your own story; you don’t need to know mine. There are thousands of biographies; why do you want mine? I’ll be gone before you know it and forgotten just as fast.

To the Boy I Used to Know

Victoria Olivares

I loved you infinitely. I wrote poems about you, none I could ever share. People claim to know you more than I, but I know your past. We may be different people now, and that might be a good thing, but I knew you, and that they could never take from me.

THIS BOOK WAS PRODUCED IN PARTNERSHIP WITH

AND FUNDED IN PART BY

WITH MAJOR SUPPORT FROM

The Albert and Elaine Borchard Foundation

The Sacramento Office of Arts and Culture, with support from the City of Sacramento.