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 Jan 2021 Samm Marie
Bailey
This suffering has become too much for my mind and my body to handle.

I am angry with You because You broke me before I had a chance to grow. You were supposed to be the one person in the world who made me feel
safe,
loved, and
cared for. You
manipulated me. You
used me. You
abused me. You
ruined me before I ever met those who crippled me. The worst part is that I will always love You more than anyone else in this world...and when You die I will feel forever empty.

I hate YOU because YOU knew that I was
younger and more
vulnerable and used that to
maim me. I can never enjoy my life again because of YOU. Every day of my life is
violated and
defiled by YOU in the same way YOU
tortured me in those three months. The worst part is that it has been five years and YOU are still happily living and breathing somewhere out there. I want YOU to die.

I am terrified of you because you hold all of the power and you do not and will not care about my life. You don't care if I die. You are
ruthless and
disgusting like Satan himself. You are
vile and
cruel and
apathetic. The worst part is that I see you every day and I can never hide.

i love you, but you scare me. i shake when i think about giving all of myself to you. i am alone forever in my existential thoughts that you can never enter. your touch feels wonderful...so warm and comforting. if i let myself enjoy you...you precious soul...you'll just be ripped away from me like
every
other
almost
happy
thing. the worst part is that the only way to protect me is to not let myself believe you love me. please love me.

I am desperate. Clutching on for dear life to anyone and hugging until I turn blue. I am
trembling and
peeing and
crying. I am
screaming and
bleeding and
struggling. The worst part is that nobody knows that I am a child who just wants a hand to hold.

Life is meaningless and horrible. I feel grimy and disgusting, twisting in and out of all of their scraping hands as I walk miserably
on and
on and
on.

I'm dying. I mean it--I am dying.

Someone help me.
Someone touch me.
Someone care about me.

I'm dying.
all I want is to be happy and safe
 Aug 2019 Samm Marie
Nellie 55
I just want to get by with bills
A job that doesn't ****
Something worth working for
Nothing less nothing more
Snuggle and watch tv
Staying warm with her next to me
I just want to be official forever
We're ready because we got better
 Aug 2019 Samm Marie
Bailey
New York
.
Carnegie Hall
.
I miss who I thought he was
.
I am odd and whimsical
.
Why is it right around this time--right before I'm the happiest, that I remember the ones I loved that made me cry?
.
Sad watermelons
.
Friendiversary
.
Rest in peace Sergio
.
Pushing away my birthday
.
Best friend
.
Losing my beeb
.
"May your coffin be made of one hundred year old wood that I plant tomorrow"
.
He smells like salty sweat and hair and cologne
.
Antique store heaven
.
Please don't take
.
Scuffed shoes
.
Mutt
.
Bubblegum and carmex
.
Enrolled
.
Tattoo
.
He replied, "crazy...would you like to come with me?"
.
 Aug 2019 Samm Marie
soft
So many have a thing for roses
even my middle name
stems from the flower- Rose
deep red, never unnoticed
So strong with such vibrancy
yet so very opposite from myself
Still I grasped for it
wanting the strength and
attention it promised
And as the thorns
pricked my fingers
I only held tighter
bleeding red onto red
They need not say anything.

She sits at his side,
Her hand atop his,
Loosely gripped more powerfully than any muscle could manage.

They need not say anything.

She is still, quiet and vacant.
Everything she has: is given to him;
All of her muster,
Her strength,
Her compassion.
Is given to him in a single glance.

They need not say anything.

She watches the glisten of his,
leave his eye,
A hard road fought,
Struggle takes tole.
He battled not for him,
She knows he endured.

They need not say anything.

And they sit through unrest,
More Spartan than Doric.
***** gives him no peace,
There is no comfort in her eyes.

They need not say anything,
There is nothing an “i love you” could add.

Heavy weighs the air of orbits,
So many shared in spin,
Falling through time together.

The half mast flag,
The empty chair,
The fools suffered gladly.

The whisky corked,
The tune unsung,
The chuckle lost to history.


A million fires could not burn with the strength you showed in leaving.
A million men; you were and are,

Each and all worth hearing.



Glorious love,
Has filled this hall.
Strangers, family, friends.
Remember together,
Mourn one and all,
A father, a brother, one Les.
The man who raised me passed and i can barely scrape the words together to do him justice.
Balancing the scales.
Take from one,
Give the other.
peaceful equilibrium.

The dynamic seesaw of life.
Solve for x, y, z.
Find that which you look for.

But i remain the remainder.
The imbalance in this function.
 Dec 2017 Samm Marie
Alec
I am afraid
(Of the future I’ve made)
For the boy
(Treating his body like a toy)
Who will slowly remove his shirt
(Unable to find the shadows in which he lurks)
And show her his scars
(That scatter across his whole being like stars)
His aches and pains
(The results of what drives him insane)
Bumps and rough patches
(From stabs and all of the scratches)
Marks she will look at
(While he is poised in preparation for attack)
The words he waits for
(What is wrong with you?!
What caused you to mutilate and gore?!)
The aching silence
(Leaving him to regret his self violence)
But maybe
(Because the future can’t be completely seen)
Maybe she won’t be afraid or hate the scars
(Because his body truly is marred)
Maybe she’ll tell him that she doesn’t mind
(Something i doubt, but is still possible to find)
That his scars are not something he should hide
(Terrifying, id just assume it was a lie)
That she wants to know the story behind every one
(Even though there are piles of marks, no, tons)
And she will take her hand and trace
(While he stands still, less afraid)
Every line, every dot
Every mutilation, every spot.
(While he’s waiting for the catch, the lesson he’s always been taught)
And she just stays there, looking at but not cursing him and his scars
And he thinks “maybe i can be loved, though I’m marred”
 Dec 2017 Samm Marie
Braxton Reid
These fingers quickly till the dirt for words buried in my mind
I can write free verse or I could rhyme
I can make haiku
Though its not necessary
To portray my heart

Struggle, I have become; I'd like to find my voice.
Amongst many a great poet, I am the furthest ripple from the rock thrown in water.
The lowest branch on the red wood.

Don't believe in such tactics as motivation; a devilish dependency lies there.
No, it must be discipline that is fair.
To write strictly; to write deliberately; to write however I want in those ways.

"Yes, but did you see the way she looked?"
Motivation from the deepest nook;
Inspiration that sings rhymes.
Free verse couldn't emphasize.

Simply put, maybe there's a time and place.
For different styles, and different tastes.
Iambic signature, saving grace.
Freely spoken, unknown fate.
Trying to create an idea using different methods.
 Dec 2017 Samm Marie
Braxton Reid
All things so morose
So many people speak of woes
When we're deep in throes
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