The Quill of Samantha Grace Newcastle

care

  • Be Yourself….. Be real…..

    The trash man can have the the voices that tell you to toughen up, like feeling deeply is some kind of flaw, like tears are cracks instead of proof that something inside you is alive enough to break.Some of the strongest people I know cry every single day and still get up, still show up,… Read more

  • The healer dies!

    Tonight’s writing is part reflection, part elegy, and it says something many healers, empaths, and compassionate people experience but rarely express out loud: the exhaustion that comes from always being the giver, never the receiver. The healer was never meant to mend their own wounds, not the ones hidden in the heart, nor the quiet… Read more

  • not cold at all

    Life ends, and you are here, on the mortician’s table, a quiet witness to the journey’s close, not lonely, not cold Rather, a sanctuary of care, where the breaths of the living hush into reverence; We gather, a unity of hands, young and old, each fingertip a thread of warmth, each heartbeat a whisper As… Read more

  • webbed dust

    dust collects on the edges of memories living room walls grayed with outlines of what was,photographs hang in webbed silence each face frozen in a laugh that no longer resounds Their love as a vase cracked, yet still holding water,the stems of our shared days with petals dry, dead on the floor, they dropped only… Read more