if you have a kindle, my first novel is FREE ON KINDLE RIGHT NOW, for a limited time! although, it’s always on kindle unlimited for free, right now anyone can get their paws on it.
it’s not the sort of story that i ordinarily tell (as is known, i’m usually all about the horror or fantasy, & this one is more psychological), but it’s a story that i told. & it’s free until (unintentionally) midnight, on valentines day. 🧛♀️
cover design by Mitch Green at radpress publishing.
CLICK ME. I’M WHERE FREE STUFF IS.
i was once obscure
like food stains under skirts
or a film of oil on a flowers tongue
but i grew to be a bigger blemish
like a birthmark on gods face
until i had to hide away
so no one saw
death had come on many occasions
and i, the greeter at the door would grin
but i was not the company he was looking for
when i’d invite him in
thus i watched them all march out
my loves; one-by-one and fall to ash
and still i, never being the one sought out
began to wear white instead of black
to mourn; no coward soul is mine,
in hopes he’d never return.
words = samantha lucero 2017 ©.
photo = emily dickinson.
slay the beast
that like a dissolving silhouette
roams at the corner of your eye
leaves when you walk to it
stays a friendly whisper
in your ear
on your weakest,
find the piece of you that’s rotting
(we’ve all got one)
hunt it out,
rip it out
before it makes everything else
around it decay.
words =samantha lucero 2017 ©.
photo = tumblr. aka, you tell me.
[a series written a million years ago by a total goth.
unearthed for amusement. posted in parts.
a ridiculed man desperate to find evidence
of the soul embarks on a murderous journey. PART 1, PART 2.]
The Horseman’s First Diary Entry
Continue reading “the horseman, pt. 3.”
i wish i could recall the pulsing safety
of my mother’s red, warm womb
that sacred burrow i curled where all i heard
was the watery song of her galloping heart
& the indistinct voice of my uncertain future
where she’d forget i ever lived within her
where i was wove to bone & flesh
& therefore have known her like
no other ever will
where she could not turn her back on me
as she did in life, because she wore me
in the front; a living fragment of her
until it came time i breathe on my own
& since then i’ve always breathed
how did it feel to be carried
in strong arms born on
or near halloween?
to be kissed while i slept
by the bags of blood-blue eyes?
to be ignorant of the
cold, hard truths of life?
before life scrubbed them from my skin
erased them from my spine & eyes
replaced them with fire
& darkness, so that i’d know that
bad memories burn & the good ones die
i wish i had my last memories of peace
words = samantha lucero 2016 ©
image = not mine.