Sammi Ama


As a reminder of who I truly am and what I believe in


Last night I covered my sadness
with a warm blanket of liquor.
It burned as I took gulp after gulp,
but somewhere in the middle of the night
it stopped scorching my throat as it went down and started
kissing my nerves and thoughts
into a comfort so sweet.

I breathed in smokey air
that painted my lungs black like the night that was
thanking me for being alive.

I don’t know how or when it happened,
but we ended up alone.
I don’t remember what lead to the deep conversations we had,
but we ended up asking too many questions
and lost track of the ones we had answered.

You told me you were bad at talking to people
and I laughed because
I almost said “Me too”
until I realized

I’m very good talking to people
and making them interested in me since I know
how to listen and which questions to ask
—even though I don’t necessarily communicate very well.

Yes, I may be very good at making you like me,
but I’m not a very good person at all.

Submitted: Sunday, July 07, 2013
Edited: Monday, July 08, 2013
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Poet's Notes about The Poem

June 16,2013

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