The Quill of Samantha Grace Newcastle

tempest

  • Metus impotentiae

    In the brightness of midnight,the floorboards creak as silently I hear deliberate whispers beneath my feet; a harbinger of something unseen Internal secrets,breath held tight,the air has a scent, seemingly metallic and bitter,and unspoken fears are gnawing like rats at the edges of the mind What lies in the empty room that people all avoid?… 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

  • 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

  • Tempest resistant

    In the quiet of the hospital room,you lay , a mosaic of strength,31 needles laid out like a soldier’s salute,each one a story etched in the skin of your arms; yet the way you smile,as if the world is offering you coffee and an eclair Every day a marathon,your vision, a puzzle with missing pieces,yet… Read more