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  • Writer's pictureSamantha Morgan

Poems From Nowhere


There is nowhere to be

There is nothing to do

Between here and there

Between me and you

This is all there is

After your born

But before you die

All that matters

Is if you truly felt alive


There was you

And there was me

From behind our lenses

We could not see

Never what stood in front of us

Only what burned before

The past projected

The present kept score

I just wanted you to see me

And I wanted to see you

But we kept ourselves hidden

Until our faces turned blue

In the blue we could not breathe

The distance grew greater

And stronger

Until it began to seethe

And in the end

Oh in the end

When I finally walked away

And you let me leave

Instead of stay

What I finally did see

Was ultimately it was me

Hidden from me


I’m here for it

Waves crashing

Dreams shattering

What any of it means to me

As painful as it is to be

To not be

Is not to be set free

To be set free

Is to see

Whether you believe or not

Won't stop you from happening


What if this is heaven

What if this is hell too

What if all of life

Is a dance between the two

What will you let go of

What will you let remain

The past may be carved in time

But your mind can always change

Blah blah blah

I write poems with pictures I take

Like some sort of millennial

Trying to understand

What is real

And what is fake

PS we’ll all be dead one day


It’s only a matter of time

She said

What goes around comes around

You know?

That's the attitude

For the platitude

What will you give me this day

Another series of words

To drown it all out

Sometimes the words get in the way

From what it is I mean to say

Sometimes saying isn’t enough

It’s showing up

As you are

As you were

And as you never will be


It all changed when I invited my demons to have a drink with me

Instead of drinking them away


you will exist

they say

when you’re born

but before long

you realize

something given as a gift

becomes a chore

to live as something

they tell you to be

to cut ties with your self

put your dreams on the shelf

and continue pretending you’re free

to exist

is a choice

to remain

don’t tell me

life is a bore

living with an expiration

unknown, the allure

to use your voice

is to exist

with the knife

still in your wrist


it's okay to feel

lost in space

alien, unknown

but how can you be lost

in the very thing

you are

- space


What is just true?

Is it me

or is it you?

The things we think

or the things we say?

Is it how we work

or how we play?

Maybe it's all of it

The black, the white,

and the grey.

Maybe what's true for me,

isn't true for you.

But could you love me, anyway?


It takes us up

and down

The path winds around crooked trees

Each step uncertain

Unless you go backward

Or stay in place

Hold your breath

Be on guard

You'll die if you don't

they say

Life isn't something you play

But you move forward,

death is coming anyway

The fear to move won't break

Until you take that step

Still breathing

was it all charade?

The fear returns

later down the path

A new step

A new displeasure

Until the end

the fear returns again

and again


You are not a table, or a chair. You don't need to be fixed. You are not broken. Or in need of repair. You need to be honest. Mostly with yourself, and yes with them too. Since you are a human being. That's what it is you must do. I love you.

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