Sam Eliza Green
Bio
Wayward soul, who finds belonging in the eerie and bittersweet. Poetry, short stories, and epics. Stay a while if you're struggling to feel understood. There's a place for you here.
Stories (89/0)
Root a While
No, I can’t tell you what it’s like being a local because even my hometown feels foreign. Yet, so easily I can recount driving southbound on a one lane highway next to a sick dog who just wants to be held, shedding filthy blankets into the gas station bin like layers of our own skin, eager for warmth.
By Sam Eliza Green12 days ago in Poets
Homesick
If walls could talk, and we do, I would confess my deepest secrets. It's been so long since you've held me that abandonment haunts my every corner. Remember, we were together through thin and thinner until we weren't? You fled the nest, and I stayed because it's all I'm good for. Was the sunshine medicine for your soul like you had hoped? I only really glimpse it through a crack there in the window. But almost every day now, I wish I could follow you.
By Sam Eliza Greenabout a month ago in Fiction
Our Year In Bloom
As our new year blooms, please do not reduce your worthiness to a list of things that must be accomplished. Instead, find courage in the seasons of change, the ways of wind and water, and the hardiness of earth. Let the fire of passion in your heart guide you toward unexpected beginnings and revisited paths.
By Sam Eliza Green2 months ago in Poets
I Pray It Is Tame
I hope you find joy from the harvest you planted and forgiveness from the one you didn’t. When your soil dries, I dream you’ll make time to water the lilies most days and learn to release the ones who couldn’t survive their newfound independence.
By Sam Eliza Green3 months ago in Poets
