Sam Alexandra Rose

Author: writersamr

  • nothing freewrite

    I did a free write and this is what came out.

    Everything starts with I. It’s like there is nothing else to talk about but myself and the wind, the storm, the loss. So much loss. I don’t think I even care about when it will end or why, just that one day there will
    be peace and there will be sunshine. There is no stopping it. I know that now there is nothing except the wind in my face and its strength is determined by some unknown weatherman who decides these things. Who decides these things? Not me, that’s for sure. There is a breeze or there is a gale or there is something between the two but there is no rest for the wind now, there is no rest for the wind. Sometimes I think that there is fire and the wind will spread it. The
    wind will turn the flames bluer than they have ever been. And there will be snow. And there will be gusts, so much of a gust, and no guts, no guts left for me. Nothing left of me. Windswept, scooped up and carried away on a tail, on a sheet, in a sack, something taken in broad daylight – not in the dead of night.

    (more…)

  • Too much medical

    In the space of two weeks, I have:

    – Been to see a gynaecologist due to weird MRI results, and told everything is fine, that they can give me a hysteroscopy if I want (just a camera check-up thing) but I said if it’s not totes necessary, don’t bother

    (more…)

  • living in fog

    the fog contains all the
    bad thoughts, all the
    worst possible outcomes,
    all the harshest parts of reality
    and descends
    familiar lands turned foreign
    even time is warped –
    the turn of the day barely signalled.

    the fog isn’t malleable
    you can’t make anything
    out of it except things that
    are beautiful in an ugly way
    and even then it’s a
    matter of opinion.

    one day it will lift
    but the end is
    impossible to see
    because the fog
    doesn’t simply shroud –
    it steals, with no promise
    of replacement.

  • The ups and down and madness of cancer survivorship

    It’s all mad. Absolutely fucking mad. I did okay through Christmas, until about 30th December, in anticipation of this appointment with the gynaecologist due to the MRI I had. Spent that evening curled up with my boyfriend crying, and the days leading up to yesterday weren’t much better. Anxious, freaking out. Distracted. Wednesday night my belly was flip-flopping all over the place, doing somersaults.

    (more…)

  • 2017 in review, sort of

    Home alone, feeling reflective or otherwise emotionally riled for no real reason, and in possession of a lot of Jack Daniels. Four bottles, in fact. Obviously I’m only going to have like two glasses; it’s just interesting that I have so much in the house at the moment. Good to know it’s there, I guess – though I will have to pick a different alcohol when I eventually go to the supermarket to do my “will I still get ID’d now that I’m thirty?” test.

    (more…)

  • all I know

  • I visit my uncle

    I visit my uncle
    whose nose has been partly cut away
    to remove some of the skin cancer,
    who can only eat through a feeding
    tube, who has lost all his weight,
    who has developed an infection
    and a bloodied, sore face, whose
    wife feeds him and gives him his
    morphine and antibiotics, who has
    blood in his pee when he goes once
    per day, whose organs are shutting
    down, who, when he asks if it’s
    curtains for him, hears the answer
    yes. And I leave to go back to my
    upgraded hotel room and I eat pizza
    and drink Southern Comfort and
    the next day I go home and kiss my
    boyfriend and go to work and my
    aunt and uncle will carry on for
    the next two weeks or maybe more
    but that will be all, just a few more
    weeks of enjoying this world in that
    hell hole of a body and we all watch and
    listen and know that we will each follow,
    somehow, someday, and we’re all
    already on our way.

  • Remembering a dream

    Remembering a dream:
    There was a tugging,
    a feeling of belonging,
    a sense of comfort
    and safety.

  • to be with me

    I had a dream you were with me.
    we were holding hands
    and people were saying that’s not what friends do
    but they were wrong.
    because an unnamed personal disaster
    had befallen me
    and I just needed someone who knew that
    to be present enough to touch my skin
    to hold my hand like it’s a thought that needs soothing
    to ward off all others who wouldn’t understand
    to be with me.

  • tubes in places they shouldn’t be

    tubes in places they shouldn’t be
    there have been floods here
    burst pipes, now there’s a
    clear plastic tube coming out of the plughole
    sticking out of the sink
    trailing out of the door
    droplets floating down the tubes
    drips
    drips
    drips from the ceiling

    tubes in places they shouldn’t be
    there has been blood here
    tubes in veins
    blood transfusions
    morphine drip, anti-sickness
    droplets floating down the tubes
    drip
    drip
    drip of memories
    in places where they shouldn’t be