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.
Achievements (1)
Stories (116/0)
- Top Story - May 2022
Their Memory in Worthless, Old ThingsTop Story - May 2022
Let’s pretend we didn’t stumble home last night in a drunken stammer and fall asleep on the kitchen floor, that you aren’t more like the sister I always wanted than the mother I never had. Let’s look past the empty bottles we stashed in our bags because recycling is important and we have to save the Albatross. Seriously, I never do this, pour my heart into a flask and ask someone to drink it, but there’s something I need to say, something you should have known long ago, but I was terrified you would hate me.
By Sam Eliza Green2 years ago in Confessions
I Know You Lied to Me
The beach, wind in your loose perm — Do you remember that day, remember it for the sake of the young ones who couldn’t? Sand, as gritty as the things we learned to love, sifting between your toes, running like the boy who was finally strong enough on his feet, unbound from the earth, free to roam. Do you remember the tide that taunted us? I wanted to crawl into the sea, but you held me instead while we built a castle out of salt and sand and pretended we were royalty.
By Sam Eliza Green2 years ago in Confessions
There Is No Guilt in Distance
I hope that when you call, stirred from self-inflicted isolation, someone answers and when you’re riddled with the guilt of distance, convinced you don’t deserve to hear their voice, they understand that it’s much easier to wilt in cool, dark silence than in the company of friends, who suddenly seem like strangers because how can they really feel familiar if you don’t even know yourself?
By Sam Eliza Green2 years ago in Poets
- Top Story - May 2022
How to Live in a VanTop Story - May 2022
It’s easier when you’re by the river. Find a spot with moving water. Wash your clothes over a rock. Skinny dip when you feel dirty. Cut your hair. Remember how much money you used to spend on shampoo. It felt like a different life then.
By Sam Eliza Green2 years ago in Wander
You're the Ethel to my Lucy
Momma, I will not dwell on the things that could have been. How easily those broke our hearts. Regret is long gone, never belonged here between you and I. Our story is now. I’m no liar, but I’ve never been good at confessions. As you know, I lost my voice, the real one, years ago, and I haven’t quite recovered.
By Sam Eliza Green2 years ago in Confessions
Lipstick on the Wall
When you forgot my name, I wanted to hate you, as if it were easier than accepting the truth of your condition. “Why don’t you care?!” I wanted to scream because it seemed so unfair that my friends went to brunch with their moms when mine had been gone for months on a bender with some stranger she met at the park.
By Sam Eliza Green2 years ago in Poets