Poems

Apocalypse of the mundane, where chaos reigns, In the small stuff, it drives you insane. Forget the zombies, forget the end, It’s the daily grind that’ll make you bend.

Apocalypse of the Mundane – Daily Grind Apocalypse of the mundane, it’s your daily grind,But you’ll rise above, leave it all behind.So laugh it off, it’s just life’s way,Of keeping you grounded, come what may.

Apocalypse of the Mundane – Slow Decay Apocalypse of the mundane, it’s a slow decay,No fire and brimstone, just a shitty day.It’s the minor stuff that wears you thin,But you’ve got to fight, if you’re gonna win.

Another day, another dollar, they say, But it’s all just a hustle we’re forced to play. Kissing ass, shaking hands, wearing that fake smile, But we all know it’s just another trial.

Apocalypse of the Mundane – Chaos Reigns Apocalypse of the mundane, where chaos reigns,In the small stuff, it drives you insane.Forget the zombies, forget the end,It’s the daily grind that’ll make you bend.

And when they finally pick up the phone, You realize they’ve left you all alone. Your problem’s still there, unresolved and cold, But hey, they thanked you, you’ve been told.

Another call, another complaint, They’re screaming loud, but I ain’t no saint. Smile through the bullshit, nod and grin, In this customer service hustle, no one wins.

Bit my tongue so hard I tasted copper in the dark,and the wanting pulled me under like a riptide finds its mark,her body is a current I’ve been caught in since the dayshe walked across the parking lot and took my breath away. Not metaphor — I mean it — lungs forgot their only work,and

.First LickUnder the lamplight’s half-shadow, her tongue traced the rim of my longing,a slick whisper of fire tasting salt and silk, drawing tremors through my spine.Her grin glinted mischief as she bent closer—cunning, unashamed—and in that single, sharpened moment, I surrendered to her cunning sin.The world narrowed to the warmth of her breath, the slick

Whispers in the Dark (Prose)The first time lingers in memory like a half-remembered dream, more vivid and awkward than any fantasy could prepare you for. There was no sweeping romance that night, no promise of forever. She was older and carried her history in the gentle slump of her shoulders, in the way her voice