Almost immediately after Sam died a whirlwind of thoughts and emotions stirred inside of me. One day, sitting in a chair feeling sorry for myself, a stream of words popped into my head. I jotted them down on a piece of paper, and as soon as I was done writing the first couple sentences, more words kept coming. As strange as it sounds, each poem below was written this same way. I don’t feel as though I wrote the poems at all—they more or less just came out of me. I do not claim to be a poet—I know absolutely nothing about poetry. For those who do, I suspect that fact will be painfully obvious. All I know is how I was feeling in the days and weeks following Sam’s death, and these poems are really just a “stream of consciousness” borne of those feelings. Perhaps they will also stir something in you.