Poems

Fuckin’ Electric (Lightning in a Bottle) You are chaos in the form of a body,Lightning bottled just long enough to be lethal,The kind of lover that turns every touch into an event–Every room we enter becomes a danger zone,A place where I can feel my old life burning off,Where shame is stripped out by charge […]

Ghost of Me There’s a photograph buried in a drawer–A boy who looked like hope, eyes fierce and unawareOf how quickly fire can die,How quickly a heart can turn to air.Now, I am the ghost of that boy–Not dead, but unrecognizable,Flickering through rooms I once owned,A shadow on the glass,A face in the periphery,Never quite

Fragile Hearts I walk through crowds with winter in my blood,Each breath a calculation–how to act, how not to break,The world reads strength in my posture, in the grin I nailed shut,But none of them see the effort–how much it costs just to fakeAnother morning, another nod, another “I’m fine.”They say, “You’re tough, you’ve been

Frozen Love It started in fire, in the fever of wanting, in lust so bright it burned away sleep,But frost came quietly, dusting the tongue, creeping up thighs, seeping into bones too deep–Now the bed is a block of ice, the air cold enough to crack teeth, the mattress remembers heat only as myth,Each kiss

Foggy Windows Midnight is just a rumor in the rearview as we coast the back roads, steering by feel, two conspirators in denim and sweat, the world condensed to the pulse of an engine idling and the hush of breath fogging the glass. The town’s asleep–houses mute, every porchlight an unspoken warning–but inside this battered

Fractured Skin Touch once sparked, electric and raw, lighting up bodies like storms,Now it’s a gesture, a ghost, a movement devoid of intent, too practiced to transform.Each brush of a hand is forensic, tracing the evidence of a fire already gone cold,The ritual persists, but there’s nothing left to hold.Fingertips follow the lines of a

First World Blues The Wi-Fi flickers out and the universe collapses in–half a second and all patience detonates,Baristas drown in first-world fury, a latte arrives lukewarm and the day shatters beneath privileged complaints.Climate control is off by three degrees, an outrage–sweat beads like existential dread,And the Uber app spins its little wheel, stalling destiny, as

Fitness Frenzy The gym is a carnival of bodies and brands, a showcase where effort is as much for the camera as the heart,Everyone’s chasing some ideal–abs carved like trophies, glutes sculpted for followers,You flex in the mirror, searching for validation instead of health,Supplements line the shelves like promises, protein shakes swallowed more for ritual

Fading Light We danced beneath a moonlit sky when youth’s defiance lit the blood and drew us close,Flesh urgent, wanting, promises blooming in our laughter, each whisper a dare against tomorrow’s ghost.The night was thick with heat, our bodies drunk on the belief that nothing fades if only clutched hard enough,Fingers tracing constellations across backs

Falling Through the Cracks Walls yellowed by nicotine and time, a window swollen shut with rain,Every floorboard a diary, every closet an alibi for pain.Light struggles through grime, carving dust on father’s fists,The air always stinks of something burning–anger, supper, bridges, wrists.Childhood wasn’t pictures but snapshots gone missing,Memories locked in the ache of a jaw,