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Sammylovesyoulots

Published: Jul 18, 2013

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Literature Text

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Literature

Young and stupid

I feel like I grew up too fast Now maturity is expected of me However I don't feel ready What if I want to be a stupid kid? Let me fuck up, Maybe get a little fucked up Nothing too crazy Not a lot of trouble Just have some fun I know it might sound like a bit much I just wish I felt happy being alive I'm too afraid to even try

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36 - enough excuses

Insecurities Attempt to keep me from being My best version of myself Can't, won't, will try but most likely fail - is the discourse I had And you reinforced to keep me from sur- Passing you in anything at all, belittling Any of my few achievements Blaming me for your own short-comings Leading me to think I could not Exist without you Yet I am capable of more than you ever allowed me to believe 'Cause without you I can actually breathe

Literature

A Prior Engagement

You are etched in my brain. I hear your voice, remember your habits, recall our time together. And I feel no pain. no longing little regret If only we knew. that all we'd done was grow up, maybe we could have spared ourselves but we fought, and we lied. We gnashed teeth, and made promises we didn't understand, or didn't want to keep. For what purpose?

Literature

warmer and warmer

the drapes greet me an unpleasant morning. the sink drip drip drips again & the tiles are colder barefoot. there is a pile of newspapers on the marble counter & dead quiet in the air- until steam billows from the coffee mug. sunlight beams in the room like a visitor & breakfast comes in with a sweet smile. it was 6:30 when i was alone, but 7:00 arrived like a neighbor & i am happy. i have myself, oversized t-shirt & messy hair & the warm comfort of my own skin. i was alone. i'm not anymore.

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Literature

Remember -the Holocaust-

There’s blood stained on these empty streets Ghostly footsteps breathe on me This was a place once full of life But now it has drowned in misery The shattered glass of Kristallnacht Like stars in the sky Sparkle in the black streets around me Like tears of a silenced cry I walk along tainted railroad tracks Wondering what horror has swallowed it It leads me to the train of death A train of memories coldheartedly slashed and split The souls’ cries become tears that flow down my cheeks Too many lives have perished here I run from what I cannot understand Pierced by six million haunted fears Six million of my people cas

Literature

Holocaust

Holocaust Twenty steps. Now, nineteen steps, Each step brings me to my death. I see chimneys spewing smoke. To the dark sky it rises. To the front, the pit of hell. People lined single file Crying before they're consumed. Struggling. Burning. Dying. To the left, a steel wall Guarded by thick steel thorns, "Abandon all hope" they say. To the right, Germans watching And waiting for us to be burned. If one escapes, they will kill With their guns. They are like beast. "Abandon all hope" they say. Fifteen steps. Now fourteen steps, Should I die by the fire? Or run and be killed by guns? Eleven steps. Now, ten ste

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Holocaust

Holocaust; Remember the children who were abused The whole affair makes me so confused How could it have gone on so long Why were they taken somewhere they didn't belong? These children were hurt for something so stupid They were punished and killed for things they never did Who would be so utterly cruel, to cause such pain and misery Why did it take so long for others to see? Many years and many more deaths So many young children lost their breaths Why snuff out a candle if it can still burn Why snuff out their lives, didn't you learn? These children were innocent, they had no idea They were mistreated and filled with fear Why

Poetry

Literature

i like to think you think of me

you didn’t come to the airport. i didn’t send the postcard. these are small defeats. easy to swallow, easy to look back at, to pinpoint what we could have done differently, things that would have yielded a different outcome. vary the variables, reset the experiment— you didn’t get me flowers. i didn’t remember your birthday. paper cuts, not amputations. too insignificant to be remembered past the day they happened. blame is a tricky thing. hard to hold in your hands. the first time you take cough medicine that hasn’t been sweetened. a bone that breaks and heals crooked. a load heavy enough that holding i

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Literature

an open letter to my twelve year old self

one day you will cut all your hair off, and hang up a map of the world in your room and you will look at it on days you think your life is going nowhere. i hate to tell you this, but this isn’t your worst year. it also isn’t your best. one day you will cut all your hair off and realize that some poems need to be read out loud, to an audience, so you’ll take a hammer and some nails and build yourself one out of a girl whose veins look fragile but whose bones are strong, a boy who isn’t as tall as he thinks he is, but whose lifelines are the deepest you’ve ever seen, and a girl whose eyes remind you of the east

Featured in Groups

I found my music. I missed it so much. When I say my music I mean music that I relate with well enough that when I realized it was playing I cried. I sat my butt down and cried. I need music. Without it I would be dead. I have used music to cope from the time I could sing.
Thank you for your time. I'm still upset like my last poem stated... nearly ready to relapse but I feel... Safer now that I have my music.

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