Poems

Individual poems

One Cheeseburger

One Cheeseburger (I’m always one cheeseburger short)(And a cigarette that I can’t afford) I got a hunger for something I can’t quite name,feels like life’s always playing the same damn routine.I’m chasing dreams down the road of rust,but every corner turns to dust.I light a smoke, but it burns too fast,I find myself staring at

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One More Time

One More Time Here we are, at the edge again,watching shadows blend and pretend.Caught in a loop where beginnings meet ends,one more time, can we just play pretend? One more time, let’s rewind the clock,unsay the words that we can’t unlock.Dance in the echoes of what we were,one more time, let the past occur. Whispers

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Nightmares in Daylight

Nightmares in Daylight In the grip of daylight, the world turns too tight,twisting normal into scenes that bleed and bite.Echoes of compulsion, a ritual unfurled,hands scrub raw, the desperation of this world. Textures that cling like whispers of sin,pain and pleasure, where does one end and begin?Hallucinations blend with the concrete and the chill,reality fractures,

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My Dog Knows

My Dog KnowsHe knows before I do —that walk from the car to the doortakes longer when the set went wrong,and the dog is already waiting,brown face pressed to the glasslike a small, patient godwho has seen this before. He meets me at the doorwith a very knowing smell,puts his head against my kneeand looks

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Muted Lullabies

Muted Lullabies In the silence of our room, your cries cut through the night,I’m supposed to feel the glow, but inside it’s just not right.Holding you like fragile glass, afraid you’ll slip from sight,forced smiles to the faces, hiding battles I fight. The dreams I had of running, far from these four walls,echoes of a

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Mourner’s Cradle

Mourner’s Cradle In the shadows of the chapel, where the sorrow softly lays,I find lust among the weeping, in the mourning’s quiet haze.With each tear that falls like raindrops,passion rises from the depths,in the grief, I seek the pleasure, in the silence after breaths. Underneath the blackened veils, where the saddest hearts do beat,there’s a

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