Poems

Rust Under The Lights Verse 1 The clock upon the wall is staring down, Red numbers eating minutes,counting down. Boots are pinching tight against the toe,Dust is in the lungs and moving slow. Boss is barking orders from the stand,Saying we are lucky in the land. Pointing at the ghosts of who was fired,While I […]

Saint Chlorine and the Bhtub Saints They say the water forgives, but they never asked it first,It smells like bleach and quiet things, like God in reverse.Saint Chlorine waits by the drain with her fingers cold and pale,She lights a candle from your memory, then blesses you with fail.They call it therapy, call it a

The Pale Throne Of Mastema (Verse 1)Choked up on battery acid hallucinations,Cemetery mutts howling from beneath the old floorboards,Blood dries on the pillow, ink crawls through the veins,I cross out each Sunday, box every filth-stained regret.The saints are shrieking from under the tiles,Mom’s ghost pouring bleach in the bathwater,Fists stay buried in pockets, one finger

Spite Machine Wake up mean, blood under my nails,Ashes in my mouth, poison in my smile,Every face on the street another target to piss on,Cigarette breath, eyes like a car crash—You want forgiveness? I hope you choke on the word,Spit out your prayers, I’ll grind ’em under my heel,Never wanted love, never bought the lie,I

Static in the Walls The clock on the stove blinks 12:00, a midnight that never ends,Mom slams a plate, the dog slinks away,Dad’s boots thump—He’s coming through the kitchen,He’s always coming. “Don’t look at me like that.”“Wipe that smirk off your face.”“You hear me, boy? Don’t you walk away.”The words push through like smoke under

ROTMOUTH Every night’s a replay—metal in the air,The stench of old wounds you can’t outrun, you can only wearYou scrub your hands, but blood sits Underneath the poresThe voices crawl inside, they want in, they want moreYou watch the shadows tangle and multiply on the wallYou know the story—someone runs, someone fallsYou beg the dark

Red X Red spray-painted X, bleeding down the splintered door,Drips fat as accusation, red as a wound that won’t clot,Condemned stenciled in black, the warning crawling over old scars,The house leans in the wind, rot in its bones,But it’s my chest that caves in,My ribs the timbers,My skin the peeling paint,My spine the cracked frame.

Nemesis You chase absolution like it’s hiding in the darkRewriting conversations, dissecting every scarThinking if you just explain it one more wayIt won’t feel like rot inside your brain You fake momentum just to slow the bleedBuild grand intentions on rusted kneesBlame timing, blame fate, blame the past you outgrewBut I was always waiting—right here,

Never Beg I woke up naked on the bathroom floor,Blood on my boots and a phone I don’t own—Last night’s lipstick smeared on my ribs,And some joker’s wallet in my coat, already cleaned out—The mirror cracks when it tries to judge me,I pour last week’s gin on my wounds and spit in its eye,Somewhere outside,

Glass Jaw The mirror’s cracked and bleeding, but it’s only my reflection (Underneath ) I wear my old confessions like a throat full of infectionI build my walls from panic, line the halls with dreadSleep with the lights on, keep the monsters in my headThere’s voices in the corners, shadows in the phoneI count the