Let’s Cut to the Chase — Jaded
A poet’s fever burns faint— like the remains of strong, memorable holds. It attacks the spirit, witchcrafting isolation out of social mingling.
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,…
Power of My Witchcraft — Jaded
Power of my witchcraft crafted a new weapon. I am the king of my restless kingdom, yet captive to my own guilt. I fought for this throne, a bloody, shameless man, fueled by demonic rage, revealing the dark sorcery that lies within brotherhood. This is my…
I. — Jaded
I laughed when I entered the room, thinking I played the elephant, the one no one dares to name. “An anti-hero with a superpower: turning everyday moments into scripts— the dullest of scenes, a story of—”
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…
They Gotta Talk to You Nicely — Jaded
Life laughs, as you were told its joyfulness would bring prosperity and carry your grace. It is a life lesson: continue life’s ignorance and find peace— embrace the extraordinary. Linger with your outcast— it’s your fault you’re this closed off.
Spoiled Cries with Deeper Cries — Jaded
Risen from the ashes built by the pawnings and landings of past, future, and current events. Not a thing learned, not a thing earned, but the bypassings of others, tarnishing them with backstabbing approaches and a spoiled hail of cries. It ran on for…
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…
Press — Jaded
They spent more time backstabbing him, with insecurities plain as day. Yet the audience gathered. Were they feathered or what? The nest got bigger, migrating more and more— hatred, conniving, and shifting became the wreckage of missed mistakes. …Who’s…
Sickness — Jaded
Bowing down to the uncertainty of unconditional surrender, shifting down, shivering through the crowded body I’m left carrying, pulling at the strings that are holding me up while fighting the cruelty of my own maker. Teardrops fall like a rainstorm…