Sam Alexandra Rose

Category: Poetry

  • Sometimes

    Sometimes when I’m trying to write about my experiences
    I stop suddenly and smack myself on the forehead and
    cover my face and just want to scream because
    I can’t believe that this is me.

  • Gardening As It Sleeps

    I have been digging
    so hard
    dirt is all over my face
    and my eyes are damp
    from the strain of it all

    but no-one else can see.

    I have been digging it all up
    heaving it out of the ground
    and throwing it in piles
    all over my garden.
    The soil is soft and it’s easy.
    I make it look easy,
    should anyone be watching.

    They’re not. I do it in the
    dead of night. I’m good at hiding
    it and not even on purpose.
    It just comes naturally to me.
    Dig it up. Turn over the soil.
    Put it back. Plant marigolds
    on top of it. Making a scene
    ain’t my scene. Dig it up.
    Rake over it. Water it with
    whisky. Put it back to bed but
    check on it in the night like
    a parent checking in on their
    children as they sleep. It only
    pretends to be asleep.

  • people keep saying

    people keep saying
    how strong I am and
    I’m slowly starting
    to believe them. 

  • Things To Remember

    jam
    tuna
    chicken kiev
    meat paste
    coke zero
    massage @ 5:30pm
    your voice in my head telling me
    I did the right thing.

  • clouds in the damaged sky

    sharp,deep cuts

    gentle grazes
    bloodied by the sun

    raised scabs crusting over

    pale white scars
    thinly streaking

    splotches of purple bruises

    fading to nothing but a memory
    as night begins to fall

  • Nightmares

    I remember feeling January approach
    and wishing for a year so unlike the last,
    a year to conquer all years,
    a year to make up for everything. 

    But that put the world under too much
    pressure; that was too much for it to
    live up to. 

    I love to have nightmares because
    they make me fall in love with reality –
    whatever that reality may be.

  • If

    If you can’t see it,
    covering your eyes
    won’t make it go away.
    So what will?

  • Natural Disaster

    I’m sorry I’m a walking disaster and
    I’m sorry that I want to show you
    all my fault lines so you know all of me.
    I’m sorry I’m cracking under the
    pressure of a natural disaster.
    I’m sorry if I ever make it sound
    like I want you to save me.
    I know you can’t.
    I’m sorry if I’m a handful.

  • I press my palms together

    I press my palms together
    and fold my thumbs
    and close my lids
    and I bow my head –

    please don’t retreat.

    please.

  • Hope

    I can feel myself coming down
    or going up, or moving in
    whichever direction is the right one.
    I don’t know how I’m doing it
    or how to keep doing it,
    but I hope I do.