By Sammy Ginsberg Gone. I mean, they are still there.My sad feelings.I am definitely disappointed. Whatever, doesn’t matter.It will be documented in my journal tonightword for word for word”Oh, by the way I can’t go tonight.”I didn’t make eye contactI kind of sloughed it off. Oh well.But why did they say I have a good…

By Sammy Ginsberg i feel the poet in my headshe takes over and the words no longer make senseor spell out a storyjust a feelingor a walli try to cut to bleedbut instead i slump,and she is gone.

By Sammy Ginsberg I look up at the flag, I guess that’s where I want to beoff in the distance sliver of hope, yet every so often,as I take steps towards tomorrow,i look off at the horns,they play jazz and make me want to sit,to appreciate the moment,stop going where I want to be and…

By Sammy Ginsberg There was a moment I wanted to write aboutI felt it’s marvel the moment it dropped into thoughtand rolled across the floor,but now its outsideof the chalk white lineand i am scattering in the darkdragging my hands through the dust,looking for this marvel,so that I can preserve that momentlike a flower pressedlike…

By Sammy Ginsberg Sitting in classmy mind up my assand the whole room going insane.It’s like a condom on my brainand nothing can get inand I am getting thinand I want to go home and eat,to hear those moving feet,those engines softly flooringas they eagerly escape.No more learning, no more thinkingI’ll turn my mind into…

By Sammy Ginsberg Feeling doubtful of whyI want to do anything.All the things I once felt joy inseem not so joyful.I feel like Elizabeth, with my servant dead,my younger brother dead,my mother dead,and my loving cousin off at college.Except that no one is dead,and everyone is here,and only the thoughts in my head are dead,silent…

By Sammy Ginsberg I want to make a move,to be reckless.And daunting,and not care when people laughor say rude things that they don’t know are rude,to have my cheeks flush because some one looked at me,to have my tongue turn into a magneton the inside of my cheeks,and my words go up and down.But, could…

By Sammy Ginsberg I feel weirdspacedlike the gas that cracks my backfell up into my face.

By Sammy Ginsberg I was a blow up doll for a while Blown up for his needs Dependent on his use or else left alone,whispering through microscopic holes until I was empty and flat.A bed for a mouse.