Sam Alexandra Rose

Tag: writing

  • anarchy

    will writing my feelings cement them in the present?

    am I an architect of my own bad feeling

    or is it just anarchy, anarchy in my body and my

    mind? I am so scared of my own body and what

    it will do next and there is no elegant way to say

    that; the best way to say it is bluntly, but at the

    same time sharply, because that’s how it feels.

    I’m scared of my body but maybe not for a good

    reason, so maybe I’m paranoid or a hypochondriac

    and maybe I should be scared of that, too. My body

    is a teenager, so close to me, and my responsibility,

    but so out of my control and though this feeling will

    come and go, fluctuating as my body changes, it

    will never go away. Whether I’m messed up in my

    body or just in my head, I will always be this way.

  • New Story Published Online!

    Hello! I’ve had a short story published in an online zine today. Well, it’s sort of a very short fiction thing based on real life but sort of fictional. It’s metaphorical, which I love, and based on my health experiences and feelings around that. You can find it in issue 12 of Degenerate Literature. Hope you like it, and if it resonates with anyone please let me know – it’s awesome to connect with people who have had similar feelings and experiences!

  • Top 10 Cancer Blog of 2016!

    I’m so pleased to say that this blog has been named one of the top ten cancer blogs of 2016!

    The lovely people over at IHadCancer.com listed their ten top cancer blogs of last year, and out of hundreds of submissions, mine was one of the top ten!

    So, I can now say I’m officially an award-winning blogger, right?! I’m even gonna get a badge to put on my blog and everything.

    I mean, when I submitted my blog for consideration I didn’t even know it was for an award type thing, I just thought they were putting a list of resources together. And I thought my blog would be too poem-y and not quite as bloggy as others to merit consideration. So this is really cool.

    And best of all, it’s really inspired me and motivated me to keep writing, and blogging, and posting my poetry. I feel appreciated and like what I do matters, and that is the best start to the new year I could have gotten. So a huge thank you to the guys and girls at IHC – it might sound silly but this really means a lot. You’ll all be hearing a lot more from me in 2017. This is my year.

    I can see I’m in great company, and it’s really cool to be connecting to other cancer bloggers on Twitter, too. You can see the list of all the top ten blogs and special mentions on the IHadCancer.com website.

  • yester-christmas

    Christmas day evening:
    kids sat on the floor in the middle
    of the living room, surrounded by
    presents, toys, wrapping paper,
    tearing open the next big box and
    waddling over, handing it to me
    to release the contents. Sitting
    on the couch unwinding plastic ties,
    fighting with cardboard – Barbie or
    a fire engine lying in my lap, waiting
    to escape from plastic prisons.
    Leftover turkey, salad, pigs in blankets,
    pork pies, yule log. Coronation Street
    Christmas special with the subtitles
    on because everyone is being too
    loud to hear it and there is no catch-up
    or on demand TV. There is just shouting
    and laughing and glasses clinking and
    toys beeping and blaring, fairy lights, a
    tree adorned with twenty-year-old baubles
    and a wonky star, musty metallic streamers
    criss-crossing the ceiling, the glow of
    the electric fire, warm bread rolls in our
    hands, and the outside world forgotten
    even if just for one day.

  • weight

    why
    is silence made so heavy?
    something
    so quiet should be
                   weightless
    and
    not a burden
                   frowned upon by the
    masses.
    there
    is a constant
                                   pressure
    to
    change. 

    I
    just can’t.
                                   and I’m not
    sorry.

    You could tell me being quiet isn’t a bad thing, but years and years and a whole childhood of being told otherwise means I’d never believe you.

  • Professor Green

    Every time I listen to Professor Green’s music or watch one of his interviews, I feel so inspired to write something, to be brutally honest, to open up a blank Word document and spill my guts and share it with the world. Pro inspires me to write more than any author does, because he inspires me to be honest and open and to be myself, unapologetically. And for me that’s the most important part of writing, that I say something that’s important to me, and that writing it down makes me feel good, even empowered. He gives me self-confidence in that way. He makes me feel like if I have fingers and a pen or a keyboard, then I can do anything.

  • Maybe

    Maybe I was wrong
    Maybe I am the person
    I wanted to be.

    I don’t mind being wrong.

  • you don’t have the monopoly on grief

    you don’t have the
    monopoly on grief

    and neither do I.

    we’re just

    kicking up copper dust

    and wishing we were high

    going through the motions

    as if that’s good enough.

    there’s a competition in my head

    to find out who’s more tough

    and I’m winning, I’m winning

    I’m stronger by far,

    but we’re rooting for each other,

    at least, in my head

    we are.

  • easy saturday

    The stormy bank holiday when
    plans fell through so it was
    Scrabble and a fry up, lazy Saturday
    afternoon with my legs outstretched
    and your half of the sofa reclined, your
    heartbeat reverberating through the
    backs of my knees as you snored and I
    watched easy tv

  • jack daniels

    the cold glass on my wet bottom lip
    my top lip enveloping – and then I tip
    the scent stings my nostrils and
    my teeth welcome it
    head goes back
    a slow swallow
    and the roof
    of my mouth
    goes numb
    the taste
    is blunt
    and then
    nothing
    matters
    anymore.

    maybe I am a mess
    but I love these
    nights.