Poems

Carols for the Charred Choir [Wraith]Down where the stone sweats heat instead of water and stalactites drip molten rust into rivers that never cool,they’ve draped chains in red-hot loops across the cavern like cheap holiday garland,hung collars and shackles like ornaments from hooked iron ribs that used to be something’s cage,and somebody thought it would […]

Cathedrals Built From Sheets and Couch Cushions [Wreath] We started with nothing but a living room that still smelled like takeout and torn wrapping paper,a couch that had seen too many arguments and naps to pretend it was dignified anymore,and a pile of blankets that had no idea they were about to be promoted from

Candle For The Roads That Never Closed [Wreath]In the crooked old window over the sagging front porch where the paint flakes down like tired snow,A candle lives on a chipped saucer, half-wax, half-memory, stubborn little spine in a long, soft row.Every year around the turn of the cold, when wreaths droop and string lights lose

Carols For The Midnight Bonfire [Wraith]Snow sat thick on the cul-de-sac roofs like icing someone slapped on in a hurry, streetlights humming over tire-scarred frost and inflatable snowmen breathing in and out on extension cords that really wanted union pay,Three carolers shuffled past trash cans and lawn reindeer, cheeks numb, hands curled around paper cups

Burnt Offerings On A Sugared Tray [Wreath]The year was the winter we all pretended to be better versions of ourselves while the radiator hissed like an old man cursing the snow through his teeth,The tree leaned a little sideways from too many sentimental ornaments, glitter clinging to the carpet and a crooked angel judging us

Calendar Confetti and Reruns [Wreath]New Year’s Eve starts like every other grand reboot fantasy, the kind people sell themselves between hangovers and holiday sales,All chrome numbers and glitter in the discount bin, champagne pyramids on TV, and some DJ yelling about “fresh starts” while everyone quietly packs the same old emotional junk in slightly shinier

Borrowed Glitter And Borrowed Time [Wreath]Last party of the year always starts the same way, with someone texting “I’m five minutes out” while already twenty minutes late and still staring at their reflection wondering if this is the version of themselves they want to pack into the last page of the calendar,Kitchen lights a little

Breakfast of Questionable Champions [Wreath] The morning after the holiday chaos it feels like the whole apartment forgot how to breathe,air heavy with the smell of stale cinnamon, cheap wine, and the ghost of that relative who wouldn’t shut up about crypto while chewing too loud over the mashed potatoes,the string lights still glowing in

Blisterhoof Midnight Run [Wraith]The story they tell at the edge of the north is never printed on wrapping paper or sung in polite little choirs that smell like cocoa and compromise,It crawls out after the last respectable sleigh bells fade, when the sky turns furnace-black and the wind tastes like smoke and old lies.There’s a

Blizzard Cart Rodeo [Wreath] They said “light snow” on the morning news, just a passing flurry, nothing worth more than a shrug and an extra layer,But by noon the sky pulled on its iron-gray hoodie, wind started flipping loose trash cans, and every adult in a fifty-mile radius suddenly remembered they owned anxiety and a