Sam Alexandra Rose

Tag: spilled ink

  • words

    I barely found the words to say
    only to find they weren’t worth saying

    (They were just the right words,
    said to the wrong person)

    I can still feel the
    bruises behind my eyes

  • unconvincing

    Today I am very unconvincing.
    Pretending to be happy is
    too exhausting to contemplate
    when I’ve spent all week being
    put in my place.
    It is too hard to answer questions like
    what is left
    who is left
    I’m not so sure now.
    I got it wrong somehow.

  • 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.

  • How Writing Has Positively Influenced My Life

    I have written this post for the writing contest: How Writing Has Positively Influenced My Life, hosted by Positive Writer. Click here for more info!

    I’ve loved writing for as long as I can remember. It’s been the only constant thing that I have always wanted to do – thoughts of being a
    teacher, a psychologist, and fleeting fantasies of being an actress or in a band, all came and went. But writing is the only thing that ever stuck, the one thing I’ve never doubted my ability to do.

    (more…)

  • 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?