poetry
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The Forgotten
Not even a figment of your imagination Not even a consonant in your whisper Not even a blink from your observation Not even a stroke in your signature Continue reading
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Collecting Sticks
That prize you acquired without even sweating Possesses very little to no meaning. Lighter than feather, value is nix. You’re much better off collecting sticks. Continue reading
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I’m Just a Man
I’m just a man with fleshly needs too. Don’t be a hypocrite ’cause I’m just like you. We have two legs but we walk on all fours. Outdoors, we’re saints. Indoors, we’re whores. Continue reading
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Can You Feel the Thrum?
The end is coming, can you feel the thrum? the steady pace of the Reaper’s drum gather any sorrow, hurt, or regret dump into a chapter you must soon forget Continue reading
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Maybe
Agitated clouds, flighty waves The ocean’s about to turn crazy Will the boat flip? Am I brave? Can I jump in the sea, maybe? Continue reading
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Asleep Underground
Who am I in the mind of a critic? Nothing but a tryhard and a decrepit. What do I look like in the eyes of a doubter? A small and rotten, wilting flower. Continue reading
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Six Feet Under
Plants die, animals too. Dreams do not. They cling to you. Push them aside or under your bed. They stay in your heart, echo in your head. Continue reading
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Miss You
The Chainsmokers are on air pairs making out everywhere I act like I don’t care but I miss you Continue reading
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Teal
Teal is the color of confidence. Heel is the tip of grandiloquence. Meal is the switch for deference. Reel is the half of codependence. Continue reading
Xeno Hemlock 