Poems

Trans-Allegheny Lunatic Asylum, West Virginia – Shadows Move Past the broken gates where grass has grown through stoneThe asylum rises–gray and endless, skin and boneEvery window blinks with memory, every shingle cracks with acheThe air thick as accusations, the chill too sharp to fakeInside, the hallways buckle with the weight of years gone wrongCries still […]

Untitled Poem In the depth of night where fervent embers glow, The heart’s secret cravings begin to flow. With whispers carried on the cool night’s breeze,Desires ignite with the greatest of ease, Where every touch burns,fierce and bright, And shadows bow to the fire’s light.The pulse of lust thunders beneath the skin, A primal drumming

Tombstones and Temptations Past’s hushed tombstonesDreams once buried,Flesh ignites anew,Power and allure—Shadows fade.Lust’s fierce bloom,Driven by dark cravings,Conquering new heights,Desire’s tempest calls,The night trembles.Whispers of sinIn moon’s cold embrace,Every kiss a scar,Eager hands reclaim,Grave’s old lies.A dance of sin,Lust’s relentless force,Passions’ waltz unfurls,In hidden corners,Pleasure’s claim.Heart’s restless beatMingles with lust’s fire,Beneath shrouds of doubt,Unfolds the

Tower of London, England – Ghost of Anne Boleyn Where the Thames moves black and silent,under England’s coldest skiesThe White Tower rises heavy–full of secrets, full of liesEvery stone is memory, every corridor a veinThe air is thick with judgments, betrayal, love, and painWithin the castle’s prison, a queen’s sorrow clingsAnne Boleyn’s spirit pacing, fingerless

Tied Up Taco Night She wore fishnets and a halo of tequila,licking salt off her thigh like a dareSaid “Dinner’s gonna be messy,” and tossed me the cuffs with a winkBefore I could blink,I was tied to a kitchen chair next to salsa and sinShe ground on my lap with a taco in one handand

Times a Day I wake up in the wreckage of a body that won’t lieThe ghost of every habit sharpening its alibiI used to chase that feeling like a greyhound after smokeNow I’m counting hollow victories and waiting for the jokeThe mirror holds a stranger with a jaw I can’t believeThirteen times a day I

The Wraiths of Sorrow Shadows swell and fracture where sorrow’s wraiths conveneTrailing cold fingers along the fragile spine of duskThey twist the silence into threads of silver sheenAnd press despair like poison beneath the huskYet in this haunted company, a fever stirsA wild, defiant fire, raging just beneath the skinIt will not bow to keening

Through the Veil of Despair Beneath the pallid veil where ruin’s shadows crawlSpirit slices through the dark, a sharpened, steely streakEach footfall splits the midnight hush, a war-cry to them allA sword carved from resolve, cleaving terror with techniqueDefiance colors every starless stretch, a rebel’s midnight speechThe heart is torch and battle hymn, its radiance

The Whisper Crowded room.Full party.Her ear.My mouth. I leaned in like I had something polite to share,Whispered that her ass in that dress was unfair,When we got home I was gonna peel it off with my teeth,She grabbed my arm and her nails sank beneath. The whisper did more damage than a shout,The whisper left

The Whispering Shadows In the dusk where daylight recoils behind forgotten hedgerowsShadows extend with a sinuous grace–no threat, but a gatheringThey cluster on the edges, slip beneath doorframesFollowing with silent devotion, not as predators, but as familiar companionsTheir touch is an icy palm pressed gently against the pulse of the livingEach one a fragment of