top of page
  • Sam Donnell


I hold no ill will towards my thirteen doppelgängers.

Their minimal existence is a piece of me now,

Each another collected story this library uses

In lieu of developed emotional honesty.

But is a sin a sin if even God commits it?

We have all woven our patchwork threads,

Fit the puzzle pieces where we could,

Forcing the edges together in wonk-straight lines.

I’ve met a few people now who call these lies,

Who try to tear down the tapestry–for there must be

A doorway behind where the real soul hides.

I’ve often wondered if it ever came to their mind,

Long after we stopped speaking to each other:

How much of me they ripped apart,

While claiming they only wanted to know who I was.

Recent Posts

See All

Right now is the sweet beginning It hasn’t come in yet It’s all descriptions of light, land, branches, I’m oblivious to posture, oblivious to I, oblivious as, one at a time, the lines drop in to chang

From the start, they urged me to see, "To believe is to know. Perception is truth." But then they silenced my curiosity, "Hiding is wisdom. Rules mustn't be uncouth." As months passed, they waved red

i have the overwhelming urge to move away, but the problem is that i don’t know where to, and i don’t know where from i can’t move by myself, that’s one of the few things in this life that i know for

bottom of page