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Saint's Muse

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Tag: Loss

Poetry · Writing

wonder bread

November 7, 2021 SamT.GutierrezLeave a comment

i never, i always wanted to want a better croissant

Poetry · Writing

last memory

October 26, 2021 SamT.GutierrezLeave a comment

when i revisit, the door is stingy always fights back knob two tons make shift handgun rips through our memory mansion never easy couldn't face you that day i remember the day the hour the minute i remember what you were wearing i just want one more time. to remember everything before that fire. please;… Continue reading last memory

Writing

image blur

October 24, 2021 SamT.GutierrezLeave a comment

i can't tell if you're real our fingers touched without the warmth; the only way i know it happened were the scars i can only see in the mirror

Poetry · Writing

quiet voice

October 18, 2021 SamT.GutierrezLeave a comment

i don't remember the last time i felt heard

Poetry · Writing

sleep paralysis

October 4, 2021 SamT.GutierrezLeave a comment

demons snicker in the light & curse in the dark; they've never cared for those they share beds with always so loud not one to let their partner rest

Poetry · Writing

wraith

October 2, 2021 SamT.GutierrezLeave a comment

you had a chance to portal back be a liberator now you're a vengance seeker with a missing eye

Poetry · Writing

new world

October 1, 2021 SamT.GutierrezLeave a comment

i know you are going through it it's okay it's just some waffles

Poetry · Writing

2nd breakfast

September 14, 2021 SamT.GutierrezLeave a comment

i just ate; fulfilled to the max counting our stacks war with our axes rewriting all our exes; i just ate, now i'm full

Poetry · Writing

ufos are real

September 13, 2021 SamT.GutierrezLeave a comment

i've seen them every time you come around

Poetry · Writing

be you;

September 8, 2021 SamT.GutierrezLeave a comment

you said you said you see yourself in me no baby no you're better you're you

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Quote~

And as imagination bodies forth
The forms of things unknown, the poet’s pen
Turns them to shapes and gives to airy nothing
A local habitation and a name.

–
William Shakespeare
(A Midsummer Night’s Dream)

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