Poems

Steps in the Echo Chamber In this room, the walls have learned to breathe,change grips the air, shifts silently beneath.Three steps, just three, before the world transforms,doorknobs vanish, and light switches mourn.A bed that mirrors my form, too precise,familiar yet foreign, a cold device.So I tread a worn path, three steps at a time,in a […]

Sock Puppet Cult They came from the laundry with buttons for eyes,preaching from hampers and preaching in lies.A wool-blend savior, threadbare and grim,said, “Worship begins with a giggle and a limb.” They stitched a chapel in the supply closet floor,with yarn-stained pews and a bloodied sock door.They baptized the interns in fabric softener screams,and replaced

Solitude’s Embrace In solitude’s hold, I find my space,a world of quiet, a slow-paced race.Alone with thoughts that interlace,in solitude’s hold, I trace my base. The world outside moves fast and loud,but here inside, thoughts are allowed.In solitude’s hold, I’m wrapped, enshrouded,in quietude, where I’m unbowed. Might solitude’s hold be my place,where I meet myself

Silent Screams Silent screams echo in a hollow room,a symphony of solitude, a presiding gloom.No ears to hear, no eyes to see,in my silent prison, I long to be free. Silent screams, they tear apartthe quiet chaos of my heart.In the silence, I am confined,bound by the screams that are silent. Whispered cries lost in

(Come on, get up, it’s time to wake up. You plan on sleeping your life away)(Come on, get up, it’s time to wake up. You plan on sleeping your life away?) I’d go back. I’d change everything. I’d skip the cigarettes, savor every daylike it was the last sweet thing I’d ever taste.I’d take my

Silent Consent In the quiet chambers where the shadows play,lies the frozen form where my fantasies stray.Cold marble skin, under moonlit deceit,a canvas so still, in its silence, complete. Eyes wide open, gazing into the void,in that deathly hush, my desires are deployed.There’s no breath to catch, no whisper to start,just the peace of the

Silence After In the shadows of my mind, a plan’s laid bare,an alley chosen with meticulous care.Gloves to conceal the sins of the hand,a path rehearsed, where dark desires stand.Each step timed with a predator’s grace,in the theater of night, I’ve found my place. I replay the sequence, a morbid refrain,choke, drag, clean–the echoes of

Shards of Myself I’m a vessel of rage, my veins scream in silence,taut as wire, every pulse a defiance.My world’s painted red, not with blood but the ire,each breath a spark, each thought catches fire. Then there’s the echo chamber, my psychotic refrain,voices dance with shadows, ballet in my brain.Reality fractures, a kaleidoscope skewed,I’m stitched

Shattered Silhouettes In the mirror’s mock, a form distorts,twisted flesh, a cruel retort.Spectral fears in the whispering dark,skin stretched thin, marked by stark. Addiction’s grip, tight with need,in the vein’s pulse, we find our creed.A syringe of salvation, despair’s hold,falling further from grace’s fold. We dance with shadows on our graves,each movement sharp, the night

Shadows on the Wall Clinic walls whisper, they hiss with tales untold,pulse racing in the silence, in the corridors so cold.Eyes darting, searching for truthsin the plaster cracked and old,every shadow’s a story, every silence a secret sold. Rage boils beneath the veneer of calm,an unseen storm, a relentless, pounding psalm.Explosive outbursts in the night,