Scott Sims Poems

Hit Title Date Added
Trigger Warning By Katrina Snow

Trigger Warning:
"I put my first boyfriend away"
I say at parties because I am a dangerous girl.
Because I am better at Russian roulette than beer pong.

Dear Ursula - Melissa May

In 2012, Disney released
A line of villain dolls depicting Ursula,
The classically full-figured
sea witch from the little mermaid

Controlled Burn By: Alysia Harris

You quit burning
Your eyes no longer reflect the flames.
You think you're done.
Afterall, you've wrung the gasoline from your hair.

Gaslit By Tatiana Brown

Taking its name from the 1944 film The Gaslight,

gas-lighting is a form of mental abuse in which false

Post Traumatic Stress Disorder By Thomas Hill

My body was in a mid air somersault:
Time stopped - almost seeming to collapse in on itself
Earth became sky

The Hour Dylann Roof Sat In Church By Denice Frohman

By now, you know their names, their cheekbones—
the tender hands they offered when you walked in.

You know the quivering strength of prayer and the art of making God listen.

Social Anxiety

Communicating should be a very straightforward and simple thing to do but for me it isn't easy
Social Anxiety is the fear of speaking to other people
It's how you want to talk but you can't
because you think what you are about to say is stupid

16th Street Baptist Church Speaks By Michael Christopher

I was born in Birmingham, Alabama in 1911 on 16th
By born, I mean they finish my construction.
I was erected as an edifice to the Almighty


Sometimes, you are a lit match dropped into a boiling ocean. Sometimes, you are a stray dog proud of the sunrise after a long night of barking at the moon. Sometimes, you scream at the television, shadowbox mushroom clouds; your hand-to-hand hatred outclassed, outdated. You: post-apocalyptic litterbug. You: venomous spider in the basement of a burning building. You: whose anger is so vast, and so empty—all teeth, and no mouth, just that white rattle.

Remember: white supremacy is not a shark; it is the water. It is how we talk about racism as white hoods and confederate flags, knowing that you own those things, and we don't… as if we didn't own this history too, this system—we tread water.

From My Mother To Her Late Daughter - Aaliyah Jihad

My little being, they tainted your obituary with wrong seven letters, S U I C, like this misery was something you wanted, like my belly burst sin, like I didn't thread your pieces together with the only joy I had left.

This home is your shrine now, your portrait is painted in Jack Daniels stains in the linoleum, the smell of your hair is trapped in billows of fireplace smoke, your laugh is a haunted house theme song I keep on a loop.

Error Success