Poems

Coffee Chronicles The alarm shatters dreams that never quite healed overnight,The kitchen is a shrine to the cult of caffeine, ritual and necessity mixed in one cracked mug,You measure grounds like you’re weighing secrets, waiting for the drip,It’s less about flavor, more about hope, a promise that the day might not swallow you whole,Social media […]

Cold Inside Within these walls, the winter outlasts every season–a bone-deep chill,Desire is theoretical, a fable recited by the body when the nights grow still.Fire once burned beneath this skin, but memory is frost, and touch has lost its flame,The world spins warm and bright outside, but inside, every heartbeat is the same.Old passion lingers

Catch-22 There’s no escape from the snare of your affections, no loophole, no exit to run,Just a razor-wire loop around my neck and cock, a trap where nobody’s won.Every “I want you” is a pitfall, every “I need space” a tripwire in disguise,Damned if I surrender, damned if I pull away–just another layer of lies.Your

Chains and Whips Rough hands twist the leather strap, knuckles gone white and palms slick with anticipation, not fear–there is no fear here, only the endless tension between craving and control. Sweat beads along the spine, collecting in the hollows where the whip will find its mark, every muscle wound tight as the sound of

Burning the Midnight Oil Light stains the city in a dirty blush, lovers colliding under flickering signs and broken streetlights, their hands straying where nobody can see or judge. In the sleepless hours, the city exhales all the secrets it has hoarded, and bodies move together with frantic certainty. Sweat pools in the hollow of

Cat’s Out of the Bag There’s a certain clarity that comes when midnight truths spill out across the floor,No more playing the innocent, no more hiding what was simmering before.You’d mastered the art of half-smiles, backhanded glances,But every deception has its hour, every mask its last dances.You thought I was the mark–wide-eyed, easy, ripe for

Broken Record We wear out the needle with another round of accusation,The vinyl hissing under your voice, a hiss I know like my own damn heartbeat–Every night a stylus dropped into the same old rut,The same fuckin’ argument, same cracked apologies,Worn grooves etched with midnight fuck-you’s and post-coital cries,Every kiss followed by the scratch of

Burning Bridges Once we were fire and gasoline, lighting up the midnight in rooms that never cooled,Tasting the world on each other’s tongues, reckless as gods, daring every rule.We built a future out of smoke rings and cinders, promising forever in lips and sweat,Tearing down our inhibitions, burning boundaries we’d someday regret.But love became a

Bite the Bullet There’s no sanctuary in the space between us,Only the cold shine of steel and the animal heat of bodies caught in a cycle of need–You sink your teeth in, leave marks I’ll wear like a medal,While I bite the bullet and ride the shudder of pain turning into pleasure.Every collision is a

Bleeding to Feel Numbness is a lover whose kiss is the cold blade that slices slow,A wound unseen, its ache the only proof the heart will ever know,Old scars sleep beneath the skin, tracing maps of love that failed to last,Pain is a language only the desperate learn, rehearsing futures ruined by the past.Longing for