Poetry · Writing

a little space

SamT.GutierrezLeave a comment

this little space

this little space that we carved out of wooden tools

this little space – is ours.

dingy dirty damp,

full of holes and ants in the summer

but it’s ours.

this little space

in outer space

they can see us dance

first time at second base

setting up our bookcase.

when we left

this little space

all that was left

some kid shoes, a needle and a jar of pickles,

this little place

has a lot of memories

packed in two separate cars.

Poetry · Writing

last day off

SamT.GutierrezLeave a comment

last year

a shakey handoff

(at best)

constantly choosing between

life and sleep

haven’t slept in years

when i do;

my dreams were a gothic spinoff

love interest played by wednesday.

black and white lens

for thee ending send-off

all black molotov

(for those who couldn’t be here)

with fireworks

and a rip off.

Poetry · Writing

it’s january

SamT.GutierrezLeave a comment

am i

a real person

hard to tell

non from fiction;

empty beach

growing waves crashed against lost sand;

is this a metaphor?

am i the wave? the sand?

more like the beach,

as a fly on the wall

watching the waves

watching the sand

waiting for something different

but i remember;