Poetry
All Poems
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In the Wake of Silence — Jaded
Silence is the loudest thing in the wake of everything I’ve said. The words hang in the air, unspoken, untouched, and I wonder if I’ll ever hear them again. But the silence speaks in ways the words never could, and I listen— even when there’s nothing left to say.
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The Man Who Never Died All at Once — New Poems
I’ve lived a hundred lives, none of them simple. I died in corners no one looks — silent deaths, small fractures inside me, one after another, like cracks spreading through glass. But somehow, I kept getting back up — bloodied, bruised, but never broken. Pain twisted itself into blueprints, wounds spun into sharp ideas. I…
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The Unspoken Backdrop — Jaded
Love is something that makes us feel the happiest alive, but it can lie. When you think you’ve found someone, yet you’re left trying to forget. Days slip by, and still, you miss them. You sit in the past, letting it mold your well-being. What’s better in yourself? Who you were then? Nothing, actually. Tell…
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Inferno — Phoenix Heart
My heart is ticking its last breath for a cause from years ago, no longer shedding a tear, but quenching the flames of anger before your satire becomes a satanic regret.
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I Closed This Book — Phoenix Heart
They acted like they could burn out your light bulb. Like they knew our make and model. It’s a tragedy, jealousy. It started at birth, masked with daily doses of pharmaceuticals and traumatic damage that turned the family into my abuser. Undergoing the worst of the pandemic of post-traumatic stress, I shook through my whole…
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Shattered heart… — An Inconvenient Attachment
Shattered heart… then life feels over. The best of friends gave me the world. I couldn’t grasp how good it was. Leaving you, leaving the memories.
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I left myself to be with you, — An Inconvenient Attachment
I left myself to be with you, surpassing the worst in mind that kept telling me this was bad… listen to your heart.
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I Am a Fish — Freedom
I wonder if I will ever escape. I hear tapping noises. I see fingerprints on my glass bowl. I want to be free. I am a fish. I feel nothing at all. I touch something smooth. I worry if the cat will get me. I am a fish. I understand that I am stuck here…
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Post-it Notes — New Poems
The only foreign policy issued was the agreement of condolence— a once-ratified mogul who carried the pride of spoken words, crafting unity among all who followed. The Duchess didn’t like how his feathers ruffled others more than they ruffled the whole. Now he’s the joker in their theater performance. But don’t forget the hard work…
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Cliffhangers and Other Highs — New Poems
And the rest was history. A made-up narrative that convinced his constituents, so thought out that the convening of the devil was dancing behind the moon and stars with him. He was so caught up in the beauty of admiring his looks, he forgot the name of his own character. “Yo. Paris is not burning…
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Blood Teardrops — New Poems
Profit from the game. They’ll always announce a name— another fall, another framed.
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The Day I Died — New Poems
The sun was kind that morning, casting gold over everything. I smiled like I meant it. Laughed like I was whole. People waved, said hello, and I said it back. But something in me slipped away— quiet, unnoticed. A part of me didn’t make it. And no one saw. Not even me. I’m still alive.…
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Cough Cough — New Poems
The show just got renewed for its last season. I see the way you argue over titles like they matter now— same script, different pain, every climax just a rerun of who breaks first. You talk in circles like it’s gospel, while I’ve been writing my silence in the margins. Keep the popcorn—nah, grab a…
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What a Clown — New Poems
Love can boast you straight into unpopularity, can pinch every thought of him while you’re still processing the pain— the real mental torture. It turns you into a comfortable mess, half-healed, half-haunted. Love— it taught me how to love in the most unpopular way: where no one wants what’s best for you. Anyways.
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Pathetic (Ways) — New Poems
They whisper of the path— the one paved with anxiety and Amazon boxes. It brings “security,” they say— like a seatbelt on the Titanic. Follow the path that parades your past mistakes like they’re vintage accessories. Look! Trauma, now in retro! Follow the path to your “best self”— as if you’re a broken IKEA shelf…
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The Last Step — Jaded
The pages turn, the story ends, but the journey lingers, my old friend. Through every trial, every tear, a lesson learned, a fate unclear. The past still whispers, soft and deep, but now it’s just a memory I keep. No longer drowning in its weight, I rise, I move, I change my fate. The darkness,…
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Jaded: The Final Chapter — Jaded
The city was asleep, wrapped in a blanket of quiet that only the dead of night could bring. Below me, the streets lay still, the lights flickering in an almost sad, defeated way, like they too had grown tired of the never-ending cycle. It was the kind of silence that pressed against your ears, suffocating…
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Still Searching — Jaded
I search for meaning, but all I find are questions. I search for peace, but all I find is noise. Maybe the answers don’t matter. Maybe the search does. So I keep searching, through the haze, through the noise, wondering if I’ll ever find what I’m looking for— or if it even matters.
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Faded Echoes — Jaded
The rain taps against my window, a rhythm of forgotten thoughts. I was someone once, or maybe still, buried under the weight of “what ifs.” Hope flickers— but it always fades. And so do I, into the grayness of another night. The echoes of what I could have been fade with every drop that hits…
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Faded Echoes (a script) — Jaded
(A dimly lit room. The narrator sits at a desk, scribbling thoughts into a notebook. Outside, rain taps against the window, but his gaze is fixed inward.) NARRATOR (laughing dryly to himself) You ever wonder if life’s just one big joke we’ve all been too afraid to laugh at? Maybe it’s the punchline we missed…
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Time: The Gift That Keeps Screaming — Jaded
It doesn’t just whisper its secrets. It slams down on the table like an old friend who’s had too much to drink— a few scars, some bruised memories, and just enough bitterness to leave you wondering if you ever really knew who you were. The gift it leaves behind isn’t wrapped in ribbons; it’s the…
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You’ll Figure It Out. Sure. — Jaded
Power move. Pretend to have a plan. Cue the usual chaos. Melancholy with a soundtrack— tragedy scored in a minor key, wrapped in poetic nonsense. Every breakdown gets its own climax. Every heartbreak, a metaphor. Cute. And in the end? It’s all just ironic noise. Suffering with punchlines. Satire in slow motion. But hey— you’ll…
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The Syllabus of Existing — Jaded
Oh, the grand cosmic joke we keep trying to annotate like it’s some holy textbook— we spend our days decoding meaning like it’s buried treasure, but darling, if we’re all still searching, doesn’t that prove the damn thing matters? Case closed, Your Honor. Haha. Life, baby. Memories? They’re not just warm fuzzies and vintage filters—…
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Her Majesty Once Said — Jaded
“Look what you made me do.” Yeah, that’s right. That’s my table. “Process the past like it’s the last thing left to do before its time here is done. Forgive, forget, prosper—as they eat the hate that once tried to spread to you. Become the new norm, protecting your prosperity. It’s a sinful life, but…
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Ever Hear Yourself Walk Away from Your Body? — Jaded
Body? Ever hear yourself walk away from your body? Yeah— that’s the first sign of pitching a pity party. It begins with a howl to your own pack, begging them to assess the emotional damages they inflicted. The scar? It hijacks your process every time you try to be socially acceptable during the simplest of…
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Versions of Betrayal — Jaded
Getting used to a new custom— built by the version of me that dares to seek a better self— feels like betrayal pressed deeper into the spine I used to trust. Familiar rituals, once comforting, now ache like borrowed sins. Hopeful beginnings have made me strangely unpopular. He simmers— quietly boiling in the broth of…
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Stanza — Jaded
“…They called it strength when I learned not to cry. But strength was the mask— survival was the monster underneath. I sharpened my silence into knives, built walls out of broken promises, and crowned my pain so it would kneel to me. What once controlled me now answers to my name.”
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Call It Friendship — Jaded
If I were the circus to your clown party, why not, right? All eyes on me, walking the thin line between chaos and grace, the spotlight burning while you paint my face— controlled, laughed at, a trending topic spinning beneath the big top. Juggling masks and forced smiles, tripping over rehearsed lines, while you toss…
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Should’ve Pulled the Trigger When You Had the Chance — Jaded
the Chance My soul drifts from its capsule, slipping into pictures of sticks and stones, fresh off a cleansing—curses still smoldering. Healing? A lie I tell myself while writing a script where I’m both the sinner and the priest. A donor of evil, smiling like I’ve never bled. Demonic hands rewrote the birds and the…
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The Anti-Hero Handbook — Jaded
Oh, why stir the pot, then cry when it’s hot— play the anti-hero like it’s some grand plot? 2025? Yeah, I’ll set the scene, watch the world burn, then call it routine. But hey, don’t play victim when you lit the fuse, then hand out sob stories like breaking news. Own the chaos, or take…
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Price of Nice — Jaded
He smiled when they cursed, bowed when they mocked, gave when it hurt, and never once balked. He listened too long, spoke softly in storms, offered his coat when the world wasn’t warm. They called him a saint, “A good one, a light,” but shadows grow long when you’re always polite. He bent ’til he…
Poem Archive
Browse the complete archive — 409 poems organized by theme.