Wednesday, June 24, 2026

Conservative Country Boys & the False Narratives of Relationships

 


There's a new astrology transit that's doing a total 360 on how I view relationships and love. It is Taurus in Chiron in my 7th house opposing my natal Pluto in Scorpio in the 1st. What does this mean? It basically means I'm experiencing a healing shift and destroying false narratives I've gathered over the years.

I would love to share a poem and a quick little essay I wrote while doing a deep dive on a certain friends with benefits situation I am currently in. This friends with benefits situation is the most satisfying relationship I've ever had with someone. My special friend's actions are louder than actual words. Nothing a traditional romantic relationship has ever been like for me. And a part of that is my natal Chiron in Gemini in the 8th house of intimacy.

I was so scared of being vulnerable. I believed in all the relationship tropes in romantic comedies and Disney movies. I also listened to modern dating advice from so-called "experts". When, in reality, relationships are a special experience that labels alone cannot box. They are fluid. They need room to breathe in order to grow. 

This does not mean abandoning your standards. It just means being open-minded instead of so closed off and isolated.

Without further ado, here are some writings I am really proud of.

"Sex equals love."


"Sex and love are two separate things."


"A relationship is only valid if it's romantic."


Those are some false narratives I grew up believing. And at almost 42, I've learned a genuine relationship isn't about labels themselves. Rather, they are about how they make you feel. It isn't about who texts first. It's about who shows up when you're at your lowest and highest. In the end, it's about who has your back, even when you aren't in the same room.


A relationship is a friendship built on open communication, boundaries, respect, and trust. It doesn't need a certificate or diamonds. It just needs to be pure.

This doesn't need to mean abandoning your standards. And it also doesn't mean that relationships are your forever and always. No man is an island, and we as humans crave connection. Each connection in our lives forms our essential being. From our relationships with our parents and siblings, to the first human friend we ever had.


And now I would like to share with you a poem, based on my experience with dating conservative men and being a liberal, feminist woman.


Conservative Boys By: Samantha Jean Tate


Those conservative country boys.

The liberal woman does not need to be afraid.

He's handy with a drill,

Can fix your computer.

He doesn't want to just breed you.

He wants the best for you.

He lets you shine.

He may not have a lot to say,

But you know he loves you,

When his actions speak louder.

There are rotten apples in every bunch.

But I love a good, masculine man

Who is secure in his masculinity.




Wednesday, June 17, 2026

Welcome to New York (or the 9th floor of the county building)

 


My life feels like a Taylor Swift song right now. Or rather, two specific Taylor Swift albums. 1989 with a touch of Red

People say you're supposed to outgrow this stuff. But you see, me and Taylor Swift have been living in parallel lives. We have both felt heartbreak, been in love with people on the football team, felt like "pick me" girls, and of course, have been complete badasses on our own terms.

I recently quit my tarot business. For good. I just don't have the passion for reading tarot for others anymore as I did before. So I am pivoting, probably for the nine billionth time in my life. I recently applied for a public sector job. I have the interview this Thursday, the 18th. 

"Welcome to New York" by Taylor Swift from the 1989 album, is the song that sums up life right now. I'm healing. I'm changing gears from solo work to structured environments. I honestly thought that my day being in a structured environment was over. While I loved the freedom of being my own boss, nothing beats financial independence. After all, I am an old-school feminist. I am grateful to those who fought for me to even have a job in the first place. I'm grateful for my right to vote. I'm grateful for being able to wear pants!

I have a lot of goals and dreams for myself. I want to get my license (yes, I've decided to try to get my license). I want to take over my parents' house when they are gone and call this house my cozy cottage, with my two cats. And maybe a dog. I want to plant wildflowers in my front yard. And in the backyard, I want to have a vegetable garden. Now, I've never gardened in my life. But it does interest me. I've always loved flowers. Receiving them from a special guy makes me happy. But now that I am single (fully single) and will probably be single for the foreseeable future (although my astrologer says otherwise), I want to buy myself flowers. And I will plant them! 

Because I love myself. I am beautiful. You should see this spicy selfie I took of myself the other day. I loved my hair, my eyes, my smile. I looked so happy. While I may not have the perfect body, I truly am a goddess in my eyes. I know few people will agree with me, but I see it. I finally see it. And it only took 20 years.
Saucy Samantha smiling for the camera
Saucy craboo.



And I know I can be confident in my career. What happened in my career in my 20s and 30s does not own me anymore. And yes, I am autistic. Yes, I have a learning disability in math. Yes, I am bipolar. Yes, I am more emotional than logical. But that doesn't stop me anymore. I will not let people yelling at me scare me anymore. I'm going to learn how to tame my Aries moon. I get confrontational easily, but I'm biting my tongue now unless I need to.

We only get one life, and Taylor Swift is always getting shit talked about her. And all she is doing is being herself. And she's not apologizing for it anymore. I am going to be fearless. And maybe one day, my person will come and let me shine and appreciate me. Or maybe not. Maybe I just do my thing. Be my own girl boss 🤣.

Yes, I've had pivots in life. And there were times I was hard on myself. I didn't love myself or value myself, and sought it out in other people. No more.

And funny thing. I re-read my poetry book, GROWTH: A Healing Journey of Poetry and Prose. And when I read that book from front to back, I remembered who the hell I was. 

It's difficult to get here. And I'm thankful for the person who saw me first, before I even noticed them. And I'm thankful that I finally saw it in myself.

Oh, and also, me and Taylor Swift and I do have the same initials...ST TS. I joke that I am her and she is me in a parallel universe. The only difference is her middle name is Alison and my middle name is Jean.

And because I'm not going to just talk about physical looks, I love how my mind works. I can see both sides of a coin. I'm smart as heck about some stuff that goes over people's minds. I can write!

Wednesday, June 10, 2026

A Novel Update

 


I hit a wall on my upcoming novel, The Breaking Strain, on the first draft. Yes, I'm still on the first draft and have been writing this since...February? I think? I can't remember. And to make matters worse, I'm only on chapter 13. 

I'm currently at the point where I want to scrap this novel and just start all over. But that is a no-no in the writing world. No. You must finish the damn draft. It is utmost important you finish something because quitting is just as hard, if not more difficult than sticking with something. 

Our FMC, Sarah Lake, recently stopped our MMC, Sam Pickney, from relapsing into alcohol. They shared their first kiss, but Sam put the brakes on from going any further. They are trying to be accountability buddies, as they first intended, but there is romantic tension. I am thinking about having Sarah's ex-boyfriend, Danny, appear in Chapter 13. To create more tension. And maybe Sam is driven into the arms of fellow alcoholic, but twenty-something Natalie after she has a fight with her boyfriend. This, of course, leads Sam and Sarah to rethink the accountability buddy situation and re-evaluate their feelings for each other. Meanwhile, Sarah attends therapy and her therapist, Shannon, lectures her about constantly saving Sam and using Sam as a distraction from her own recovery from depression. 

Oh, and I don't remember if anyone remembers me entering this novel into the Novel Beginnings contest from ProWritingAid, but I wasn't even long-listed. Maybe next year I'll submit the second draft. If I finish it by then. Who knows? I know what I did wrong. Too much backstory at the beginning. And not enough showing. 

I also struggle with my attention span and trying to write for long periods of time. I like to set aside certain times of the day to write. And either I write. Or I play The Sims or Paralives.  And I will sit down with a Coke Zero or fountain Coke Zero from McDonald's and put on some music (currently listening to Taylor Swift and company as I write this blog post). 

One thing I am worried about is not having Beta readers when the time comes to read. I have an extremely reticent community. I'm not even sure how to get community engagement on my socials or blog. I've got a Substack account set up, but my Substack is currently being set up. I'm hoping for more engagement through Substack. Although, I intend to use Substack as a newsletter service, rather than another blog to post to.

As for writing poetry, I wrote a poem just last night (June 3rd), based on Taylor Swift's song, "22". Any guesses what the poem is called? :-D

I am currently aiming for 45,000 words with The Breaking Strain. I am at 15,766 words. It would be so much easier to just write a novella. But I feel like there's too much character development that goes into it for it to be a novella and not enough romantic action that pulls someone in for a novella/quick read. 

Also, I need to really develop Sarah into a journalist. Right now, she sounds like me. I guess in a way, I did base Sarah off of me. But she needs to be different. And I need to get her sounding more like a high-paid journalist for a cable news channel. That's another beef I'm having with this novel and it makes me want to scrap the whole darn thing.

I mean, this whole story is based on me running into my high school crush on the psych ward in 2024. While nothing romantic happened in real life with this crush, we're still good friends. We've got each other's back. I even told him about this book and he was flattered! He understood it was fiction and didn't mind me basing Sam Pickney off him. I let him read the monologue I shared a couple months ago. He didn't say anything however. I really should message him and ask him if he read it. I would appreciate his thoughts and opinions since he's a recovering alcoholic. Because recovery from bipolar disorder and schizoaffective disorder is completely different from recovery from alcoholism. He is also bipolar. 

I do feel that this story is mine to be told. And it deserves to be out there in the world. I also feel it is unique compared to other romance novels and fiction books about psych wards and mental illness and addiction. I haven't been able to find books that had the second chance and recovery theme. They were completely separate. If you know of any books that have second chance AND recovery, let me know! Because I'm not having luck on my internet searches.

Since you read all my mumbo jumble, I'd like to share with you a little bit from Chapter 12. Reminder: This is the first draft. It is not completed or polished. This is just a sneak peak at where I'm at. It has A LOT of polishing and editing to go. 

My cell phone rang. It was Sam. At 8:35 in the morning. I was in the middle of job hunting.

"Hi. What's up?" I answered the phone.

"I was just thinking about that kiss yesterday. It probably shouldn't have happened," Sam on the other end sounding confused.

"What do you mean it probably shouldn't have happened? I'm glad it happened!" I smiled, but I wondered why Sam was changing his mind already.

"I'm glad it happened too, but I'm scared, Sarah. I haven't felt these feelings since Jenna…"

I could hear the confusion and fear in Sam's voice. And I thought I was going to get my heart broken again.

"I don't think we should do this Sarah. I'm scared if Craig, my sponsor, finds out. I'm not prepared for more lectures and hearing about how I am breaking a rule. I don't like to break rules,"

"Oh Sam, but what we are experiencing is natural. We can't help who we fall for (if you are admitting you are falling for me, I am flattered!) And we certainly cannot help when we fall. I'm just as scared what my parents will say about us and what Shannon will tell me next time I see her."

"I know, Sarah. But there's something else I need to tell you…" Sam's voice shook.

"What?" I felt my stomach drop.

"I'm not over Jenna. I'm not ready to date anyone seriously yet."

"Oh Sam, I get that. I am not ready to move on from Danny just yet, either," a comforting lie.

"Is it cool that we just stick to being just accountability buddies?"

"Yeah, I guess. I mean, that's what we were supposed to be in the first place."

"Okay."

"Okay."

I hung up. Tears started rolling down my face. I flipped over on my stomach and cried into my silk pink pillowcase. I wasn't prepared for this speech. I couldn't get that damn kiss out of my head and the events of yesterday playing in my head. The kite flying. The way his rough hands felt on my smooth hands. I was too bummed out to look for a job now. Instead, I laid in bed. Moped. Suddenly, there was a knock on my door.

"Sarah, are you coming down for breakfast?"

I sobbed into my pillow. "No, mom."

"What's wrong baby?" mom grilled me.

"I don't want to talk about it mother. Leave me alone."

"No, Sarah. We need to talk. I am your mother. I do not want a repeat of what happened last month and you back in the hospital. Please, tell me what's wrong," she insisted.

"MOM! I don't want to talk about it!" I screamed at her and threw my favorite throw pillow at the door.

"Sarah Marie! I am your mother! You do not speak to me like that! I demand to know what's wrong!" she shouted back at me.

How could I tell her about what happened at the park yesterday with Sam? And how it was all torn away from me just now? And that Sam just wanted to be accountability buddies because he cares more about rules than going after what he desires? It was me he desired! I know he made up the excuse about not being completely over Jenna to sooth me.

I bit my tongue and swallowed my pride. "Sam and I kissed yesterday at the park. And he doesn't want to continue on with a romance. He said it was a mistake," I cried into my mom's arms.

"Sarah, honey, I think it's for the best you don't get involved with anyone else either. You just got out of a relationship yourself. You need time to heal. To date around. And most importantly, find yourself without being someone else's significant other." Mom hugged me, stroking my back softly.

"But mom, I don't want anyone else. The way Sam kissed me. It felt like he chose me. It felt like he desired me. Danny never made me feel desirable. In fact, that is why he cheated on me." I looked into my mother's eyes.

"Sarah, desirability does not make a relationship work all the time. There will come a time where you need a friend. And there will come a time where you just need someone who can support you financially. You are a woman, and a woman's job is to please the husband. Not working as a journalist or with a career," she condescendingly acknowledged.

"But mom, it is so important for a woman to have her own money, her own career, her own life outside of her husband. Don't you wish you could have been a career woman?" I was not buying mother's anti-feminist views.

"No honey. I am happy being a homemaker. I'm grateful for your dad to support me. He would never harm me or you. We have it made. And you have the opportunity to have this same life, especially now since you were in the hospital. You need someone who is sober and can take care of themselves and you. You don't need an alcoholic who can go on a bender the moment something goes wrong."

"But mom! Sam is changing! He's three weeks sober! I know he will keep this up if he has my love and my support!"

"Honey, Sam is not going to magically change just because he has your love and support. He has to fight his own issues. And alcoholism is not an easy addiction to recover from. Trust me Sarah, you are better off looking for a man who can take care of you financially."

And there it was. The voice of reason. I know that Sam won't magically become sober because I would be in his life as a partner, an equal. But I wanted to take care of Sam and let Sam take care of me. I'm sure Sam would have taken better care of me than Danny ever did. I thought Sam and I could take care of each other. Live in a Victorian house on 20 acres of land surrounded by wildflowers and deer. That was the fantasy. But the reality is this: I'm stuck living with my parents while Sam is stuck living with his mother across town.

Mom left the room and ordered me to come and eat something. I reluctantly came down in my navy blue striped pajamas and Bugs Bunny slippers. Suddenly, my phone vibrated. It was a text message from Sam.





Wednesday, May 27, 2026

Why I Quit My Tarot Business (and why I'm not coming back!)

 


A trip to my dentist inspired this blog post. 

TLDR: I quit my tarot business because of the hustle and grind culture of social media.

Picture it. May 2020. My collection agency employer permanently laid me off as a data entry clerk because of the COVID pandemic. My best friend at the time suggested I start a tarot reading account on Instagram. 

"But I hate Instagram. I don't see the point of it," I grumbled.

"There are tarot readers on there that make a good living. It could bring you the same thing. You've been reading tarot on and off for how long now?", he suggested as he took one of my chips.

"17 years," looking down at my soft-shell taco with just beef and cheese and ketchup.

"There's people on here that have been reading less than you. You would do well," he took a sip of pop.

I continued eating my Taco Bell lunch with my bestie. And then we went into his car and made out like we always did when we met up.

When I got home from my afternoon lunch rendezvous with my best male friend, I pulled out my tarot cards and searched for a spread on starting my own tarot business. The reading suggested there was potential for this to be a long-term sure thing. It would be a way of "sticking it to the man" and being self-sufficient. All I needed was a plan of action.

I let the reading simmer for a few months. In October 2020, I bought my website (the first mistake in my entrepreneur journey). I created tarotbysammybrite on Instagram and started posting random tarot readings. By December 2020, I registered for an LLC because a few friends said I could get sued for a faulty reading or a reading that didn't come true (second mistake in my journey). 

By January 8, 2021, I was ready for launch. My website was perfectly ready. I had my socials set up. And so I announced I was ready to take payment via Venmo and Cash App, as well as PayPal on social media. And that announcement ended in *crickets*. Despite building up to 100 followers on tarotbysammybrite, no one wanted to buy my readings.

None of my posts went viral. No one knew I existed. I fought with the algorithm (mainly Instagram) every single day for five years. 

Eventually, I got sick and tired of it. My passion for tarot was also waning, getting lost in fighting with the algorithm for clientele. Most of my business came from local people when I offered private, in-person readings. I rarely made money from strangers online. I also lacked support for my readings from strangers online. I didn't have the community I was told I had to build in order to succeed as a successful tarot reader. I tried building community, but for some reason, me and people don't get along despite me being a Libra rising. It's probably because my Libra rising sits near the 12th house, near my 12th house Venus.

I got sick and tired of seeing other readers who had less experience than me brag on social media about how their books were always full of clients and they were "eternally grateful" for them. Of course, most of these tarot readers were in their early to late 20s, where I was in my late thirties to almost forty years old. I remember being that young, naive tarot reader in her 20s. The only thing is, when I was twenty-something, we didn't have social media and YouTube was in its very early stages. I didn't have access to high-speed internet. I had to stick to websites and e-mail readings. While I did fairly okay, I had to stop my practice after a mental health crisis when I was 25. I had to focus on my mental health first and put away my cards. But that's for another story at another time.

I'm tired of competing with baby tarot readers. I'm tired of competing with content creators who just read tarot to get views and an ego boost. I'm tired of hustling and nothing panning out. Everything I tried failed. From my tarot spread book, Saturday Morning Tarot, to doing a local metaphysics fair in Flint at Totem Books. It all failed. I wasn't seeing the stability that YouTube tarot readers claimed to have. They all had husbands/boyfriends/girlfriends/partners who worked while they lived in lavish surroundings. They didn't have to worry about aging parents, where their next meal came from, or how they were going to make ends meet. 

There were some things I could have done. Like to show my face and voice more, I suppose. But I hate being in front of the camera. I am highly sensitive to anonymous people bullying online. I had enough bullying in my school days. And also, I have stalkers online. I didn't want them to find me and bother me, despite my best efforts to block them from every platform. 

I also could have leaned into educational content more, showing what I know. People love learning about your hobby or skill, or job. And I have a lot of information. Just a lot of it isn't popular or in touch with today's tarot readers. Today's tarot readers are more focused on the psychology. I grew up as a tarot reader, doing fortune-telling. That's where most of my studies are. People frown upon that kind of tarot reading now. 

But to be honest, I'm just over social media. People follow to unfollow all the damn time. It messes with your self-worth. I tried combating the follow to unfollow people. But eventually, I just gave up on my author account.

I'm also over the fakeness of creators and readers. A lot of them talk with a vocal fry and talk about being authentic. When they weren't authentic at all. And some readers and content creators were less than helpful. They all gatekept social media secrets. You had to pay hefty fees in order to learn their secrets. Or to be included in their inner circle of approved readers. 

I also felt like I never really fit in the spiritual community since my mental health breakdown in 2010. I had to let go of a lot of spiritual beliefs because they were causing me more harm than good (like believing you can talk to dead people). I have always felt disconnected from the spiritual community and never regained my spiritual self back from my mental breakdown. I tried. But heavy logic succumbed to me. And it's for my protection. I wish people would realize the New Age spiritual community does more harm than good. But you can't convince everyone, and maybe they need to believe until something forces them to look otherwise. To each their own. But there are a lot of unethical people in this community. I have been a victim of many of them, unfortunately. And I may have played a part in that as well when I was a fresh-faced reader in my twenties and thirties.

I have never felt welcomed by my spiritual community here in Michigan, nor have I felt like a part of it. They all wanted something from me. Either my money or free readings or both. I also felt like a lot of other readers were jealous of me or hated me because I just read tarot cards and said I am not psychic. I wasn't scamming people. And I took away their business. 

I just get a lot of icky feelings about the spiritual community. Not just in Michigan, but even on the internet. And I never intended to become a content factory or a content creator. I wasn't going to fake having a perfect life for the cameras. I would not pretend that tarot solved all my problems (in fact; I think it gave me more problems!). 

I also refused to sell "magical" jewelry, crystals, and workshops. I never aligned with that business model that most successful tarot readers and astrologers use. They make little from private readings. The money is in ebooks, courses, workshops, and selling "magical" items. I don't believe in crystals (it's a psychology trick like Dumbo and his magic feather). I'm rarely a jewelry person. I wear only necklaces or bracelets on rare occasions. And I don't believe in magic. #sorrynotsorry. And workshops: I don't have a following and community. Who would pay for it?!

So that, in a nutshell, is why I quit my tarot business and I am never returning to do tarot readings for profit. I'm only doing tarot readings for friends and family, and they can either spend a day with me, buy me lunch or dinner, or tip me so I can buy some McDonald's or a pizza. I am currently job hunting and writing my first novel. I am focusing more on my writing when I am not job hunting. I will also occasionally throw a card down for myself. But I'm rarely up at 4:30 AM doing tarot readings on the energy of the day or finding out what my purpose for today is. I'm glad to have my sleep back. I'm glad I am not worried about the algorithm paying my bills. I'm glad I don't have people relying on me for their life choices.








Wednesday, May 20, 2026

Things I've Written (While Annoyed)

 


I feel like I write more when I am angry, pissed off, annoyed, or heartbroken. Rarely does inspiration strike when I'm happy and everything is fine in my world. For instance, I am writing this blog on a day where my Sims game had an error code, and it has been super glitchy since the latest big update. I ended up deleting my farm, my Victorian mansion, and my daughter Melody, and well, the entire game I was playing because it was super glitchy. And the updates they fixed? I still couldn't put my daughter in my back carrier! She always took her out and put her in her crib! Some update...*glares at EA*.

Anyway...I thought I would share poems I've written while annoyed. Not exactly pissed off . Just annoyed. Like my mood right now. I'm annoyed.


Rejected Again
By: Samantha Jean Tate

Rejected again.

Another stoplight

Instead of a green light.

Can't move

Can't get out of bed.

Rejected again.

One step forward,

Three steps back.

Do not pass Go

Do not collect two-hundred dollars.

You're rejected!


Untitled #6 (or Fuck This Shit)

By: Samantha Jean Tate


Sick of cold weather

Sick of overcast skies

Sick of being ignored

And left on unread

Sick of surviving

In this stupid town

Can't even own a home

That's mine

Why was I put here on Earth?

If I am just going to be poor, mad,

And sad.

Sick of looking out my bedroom window

Wondering when life will happen to me

Barely have any hope left

I've been wishing and hoping

My entire life

I've put myself out there

Only to be met with doors slamming in my face

Or precious things

Taken away from me

Fuck this shit

Fuck this noise

Fuck this stupid city

And fuck writing, too!


Tarot Reading
By: Samantha Jean Tate

          

Indecision plays

In parts of being

Unsatisfied

Holding onto every last scrap

Of hope


Silence from the Peanut Gallery

By: Samantha Jean Tate

Today it's quiet...

Too quiet for my liking.

The silence is

Taking its toll on me

Not even "you suck"

Or a "you're a lousy human being".

The lull makes me

Spiral.

Into madness and

Anger.

Eventually, tears flow

I'm a mess

What's a writer without

Her community?

What's a writer without

Critiques?

What's a writer without

One-star reviews?

Worse, what's a writer

Who is

Reticent?


The Thinner Sinner
By: Samantha Jean Tate


She feels like a winner

Until he's sick of her

He throws her away like garbage

While she picks up the pieces of her broken heart.


She feels like a winner

Until he feels too much.

She overwhelms him with her passion,

Her relentless pursuit

Of him and his heart.


She wants to be the one

To hold him tightly

To caress his chest

And tell him everything will be all right.

She wants to be his one

But she won't be

Because he chose the thinner sinner.


Muted by the Feed

By: Samantha Jean Tate


There I go,

Posting another post

That no one will read
I try to speak out
For me and the trees.


No one gives a hoot,

My feed is pollute

My voice lies buried

Under ads and pics of kitties.


Algorithms dictate whether I will be seen.

Or if my content will be redeemed.

It's no fun when you're grieving something heavy

And all you get are crickets,

maybe a like or an "I Care"

and they say nothing at all.


Hell and Back
By: Samantha Jean Tate


You went to hell

And back

To find me?


Well, I swam

In oceans to

Get away from you.


Vienna Doesn't Wait
By: Samantha Jean Tate


Vienna doesn't wait

She's got places to go,

People to see,

Food to eat,

Men to love.


Vienna doesn't wait.

Things have to be done

Before we play.

No time for a rest,

Gotta make the most

Of today.


So, no, Billy Joel,

Vienna doesn't wait.

Instead, it hurries.

With the shorter days,

And long nights.


I'm Tired
(a response to an emotionally manipulative ex)

By: Samantha Jean Tate


"I'm tired of you blocking me without saying a word."

I'm tired of explaining and defending my feelings.

"I'm tired of you never working anything out like an adult."

I'm tired of you making me feel crazy when I try to explain why I feel things.

"I'm tired of never knowing if you'll fly off the handle or not."

I'm tired of having my boundaries crossed after I've given you numerous chances to learn my boundaries and abide by them.

"I'm tired of investing into something that can blow up at any time for any reason, with you making up stories in your head to be mad at me about."

I'm tired of having to justify my reasons for feeling my feelings. I'm tired of you gaslighting me, making me feel crazy that things you do didn't really happen. I'm tired of trying to understand you when you don't even understand me.

You think you know me, but you don't.

You think you deserve a medal because you stood by me when I was at my lowest.

You think you are perfect and do everything right,

when all you like to do is fight.

You think you deserve my loyalty,

because you're too afraid to be alone.

Because nobody loves you, not even yourself.

"I'm sick of it. Goodbye."

Me too, I'm out!


Psychic Surgery

By: Samantha Jean Tate


It's going to take a lot more than a hug for my soul to heal me. I need psychic emotional surgery!


A Convo

By: Samantha Jean Tate


Him:

"You don't know how hard it was for me to let you go."


Me:

"Tough shit. You don't know how long it took me to get over you."



Not My Responsibility

By: Samantha Jean Tate


Not my responsibility
That you can't handle your money.
And now you have the audacity
To suddenly support me?

I banish you from my energy field.
Take your chaos
To a financial education class.
May your receipts teach you discipline—
Because your fake support won't buy entry

Into my sacred space.

The universe collects debts in lessons,

Not in pity.


The Cards Said You'd Care

By: Samantha Jean Tate


How I wish you would give me the time of day

To make you laugh,

To make you smile uncontrollably,

To love you.


How I wish you would speak more than two words.

How I wish you would reach out first.

I wish you were available.

I wish you were mine already.


Oh, how I wish you knew the vibe you put out

And how I caught it

I wish you didn't deny that there was something there.

Wasn't it?


You'd look at me from across the room,

While I gave a tarot reading

You seem interested

But then I caught you

And you pulled away.


Now you're liking my pics,

Liking my poems,

And you won't even say "hello."


Mistake for Fate

By: Samantha Jean Tate


Under retrograde skies,

I mistook missing you

For fate.


Under retrograde skies,

I feel the urge to dredge up

Our past.


Under retrograde skies,

I'll dream of what once was

And mistake it

As your soul calling out

To me.


I will probably always love you

Forever.

Even when I am moved on,

You will still have a piece

Of me.


Under retrograde skies,

We meet

Again.