A thousand spindles A hundred wheels A dozen or so webs An entire century of slow hearts Tell me how does it feel… to be so beautiful and significant that you send your whole word into mournful sleep? Is your soul really so pure, so divine? Is it attainable– could your legacy be attained by…
Tag: poem
buried in yourself
Did I ever love at all, if I held onto so much hatred of myself? I thought about it too long; now I don’t want to go. I need to trust my initial instincts. I always end up feeling like I’m not worth it. I always feel like I should make the conscious choice to…
nature of thoughts
Not all thoughts had are spoken. There is no need to. Thoughts are the collectives, the ones that can shape and construct, erode and destroy. They are the foundations of our actions, the foundation of our being. Not all thoughts had are spoken. There is no need to. ~Sammicakes
memory and her loss
Memory tucked in music and hidden in laughs. The memories in smells, in sounds, and in touches. The memories he held dearest were the ones the mind always tried to erase the fastest. The memories he held would never mean as much after the transfer of thoughts to the parchment, but he tried his best….
fulfilled nothingness
If I were to be trapped for eternity in a room full of nothing and I could pick one thing, anything, to be with me that nothingness… I would pick you. ~Sammicakes
World Revolution
You do not understand the magnitude of your significance in this world. Just by living you have impacted so many people, filled them with emotion and memory. You have already changed the world. ~Sammicakes
Alright | Poem
written 11/21/21 If things end, I’ll be alright It’ll hurt, but we’ll be fine Didn’t mean to shut off and cry but I’ll be fine I’ll be fine If things end, I’ll climb up high Sit alone, watch the days go by Shadow Tree falls over me Why did I think I wanted somebody? If…
voids of time, lost to time
“No time left in the present” No time measured in the glass spheres That broke into shards All around him “No time like the present,” he told himself No time, no time left in the present So he spun the shards about the dead ground until he bled Visiting pieces that would have best been …
comfort in familiarity | friendship musing
the joke was good because it was harmless, and it was a good joke because she saw it coming. the familiarity of it, of her, was enough to make a dull life gleam. Thank you for reading! If you would like, please check out my YouTube channel and give my most recent video about journaling…
tumble of the promise
transferred promise passed down promise a shared promise to people who didn’t know they would be shared Do you hate me for doing it? Do you hate me enough to care? ~Sammicakes
Sammicakes 