Four Poems Samantha Marie

Four Poems By Samantha Marie

Artwork by Sharafina binti Teh Sharifuddin

They don’t say boo

i don’t like horror movies. the suspense a consistent, frightening lack of control i hold my sweatshirt just under my eyes so i can cover them when the music dulls and the theater quietly waits for the jump-scare

you feel like a horror movie but there’s no foreseeable plot line no predictable ending i'm scared of that old antecedent pain. the one that leaked nightmares through my head and whispered that “maybe he wouldn’t have left if you were smaller you know”

what if the butterflies are merely moths and the spark is just the lighter i’m supposed to use in the dark basement of this moment to reveal the monster i’m so afraid of:

someone who could love me truly, deeply, happily love me

i don’t think i’m undeserving i just don’t know if i believe you

it’s easy to believe in the bad guys, in the boogeyman and the demons who camp out under the bed waiting for my leg to slip out of the covers at night

you look right at me, almost through you smile and trace your fingers down my arm is that the music dulling the air is soft, but is it quiet? i have no sweatshirt on to cover my eyes when is the fucking jump-scare already?

change:

careers clothes color of nail polish

future.

fearful fresh fumbling

me.

mazy misplaced meek messy moving on like a storm carries the boat in the direction it pleases and not where the captain has begged of the sails.

Moving on

lots of candles pictures necklaces i needed more than breath at the time perfume bottles stuffed animals and small decorative boxes i collected like dust

poetry books my varsity plaques and the first rose a boy ever gave me, dried, and taped upside-down on my mirror to preserve the petals

i’m boxing it all up and we’re leaving it feels like i’m ripping seams from my skin the memories of my childhood bedroom rolling down the pores of my cheeks

each inch of my room, every moment i’ve collected i didn’t know i was writing a letter to the little girl who sat in this bed and dreamed of leaving

i have to sign it now with love and a goodbye.

Modern love

hold me just a bit longer… please? i need something to distract me when you don’t answer those moments i sit and stare at too much blue

blue like the walls around my bed you held me in and nothing gray for hours, days gray like the area i've apparently tripped into

i wait by my virtual mailbox for your love letters a few letters only really easy silly little words you toss me while i pick flowers from my brain and press them into glass Cutting my fingers in my despairing patience.