The Quill of Samantha Grace Newcastle

affective empathy

  • Attending my funeral

    My tears fall like a dropped coin,tinkling, and twirling to rest; a reminder of absence,the sounds of what was, and what will never be I sit with my grief, no longer my parents deaths, but new demons to face wrapped in heavy webbing Outside, friends lives continue, their new family arrivals or other joy and… Read more

  • because He lives

    I do not fear any door closing, nor the weight of absence that settles over empty fields as sunflowers bow alive in stillness and silence For over 10 years I have courted chaos, and her friend loss took my hand, as to steal me away then Death saw me and smiled for he is an… Read more

  • the essence of growing up

    Inside my rib cage lies a grave marked with 6 names and on the ground surrounding it are the remnants of a boy lost in memories and dreams,starved of life, breath fading; lost beneath what could have been This boy, that I the old man am, are one in the same: He often does not… Read more

  • observe never absorb

    I sit with affective empathy in my office and cradle my coffee while lost in a mosaic of fractured reflections from the storm in the mind of the person across the desk from me watching out the slightly open window as a petulant child tugs on the hem of her mother’s patience, and hearing her… Read more