Nicotine is a tightly structured, lyrical poem that explores the tension between fleeting comforts and the greater aspirations we often neglect. Using nicotine as both a literal and metaphorical device, the poem examines the small indulgences we cling to—despite knowing their cost—drawing a parallel to the broader human tendency to accept self-deception for the sake of temporary relief.

Through vivid imagery of smoke, stained fingers, and fading embers, the poem evokes a sense of quiet resignation, underscoring the slow erosion of will beneath a comforting but insidious habit. The rhythmic AB meter reinforces the hypnotic cycle of desire and consequence, mirroring the way these comforts lull us into complacency.

At its core, Nicotine is a confrontation—a mirror held up to our daily rationalizations, asking whether we truly seek change or merely the illusion of control. The introspective tone invites readers to reflect on their own vices, however small, and consider what they may be sacrificing in the name of fleeting ease.

What destroys us most often is not what is done, but what is left unsaid. Families, friends, communities.. complicity thrives in silence. Every unspoken truth becomes a stone, every quiet denial a grave. This piece speaks to the deadliest accomplice of the beast: not hatred, but silence.

And yet, even within silence, the cry still trembles. It leaks through scars, through hidden eyes, through the fragile flame that refuses to die.
These words are for every soul who has lived inside that chamber, unseen but not alone.
Plumb gives voice to that cry.

What if the “cut” is not a blade at all, but truth itself--
naming the wound, naming the perpetrator,
breaking the silence that becomes a second trauma
worse than the first?
Sharp though it is, such a cut
can become the only one that heals--
the deepest relief of all...


"Cut"

I'm not a stranger
No I am yours
With crippled anger
And tears that still drip sore

A fragile flame aged
With misery
And when our eyes meet
I know you see

I may seem crazy
Or painfully shy
And these scars
wouldn't be so hidden
If you would just
look me in the eye

I feel alone here and cold here
Though I don't want to die
But the only anesthetic that
makes me feel anything kills inside

I do not want to be afraid
I do not want to die inside
  just to breathe in
I'm tired of feeling so numb

Relief exists,   I find it when

    I am cut

https://youtu.be/OJkqkWIpFAI?si=hMaAlmoUB_OnEoOG


Better the wound of truth than the grave of silence;

To those who have carried the weight of numbness,
Plumb’s voice  becomes
their own cry of solidarity

xoxo

2025/120

Trauma builds with silence as mortar. Each unspoken truth becomes a stone in the wall, each careful smile a tower that hides what festers inside.

From the outside, the fortress looks strong.. even admirable. But within its walls, the beast remains untouched. This piece speaks to the architecture of denial: how families, communities, even whole societies build fortresses that protect appearances while sacrificing souls.

And to those who build their fortresses of silence, who entrench themselves in deception and call it strength.. this is for you. There are battles that words alone cannot soften, and for those battles the posture is Headstrong.

This is where the silence ends. The fortress you defend cannot heal, and the fight you dismiss as madness will not bow to your walls.

For those who choose to be self-entrenched.. who make the fortress their stronghold, hiding behind its ramparts a counterfeit “strength” built from the empty pit of unresolved years, dressing up brick and mortar to conceal the hollowness within.. this song is for you--


"Conclusions manifest
Your first impressions
got to be your very best

I see you're full of ****
and that's alright
That's how you play,
I guess you get through every night..

Well, now that's over

I see your fantasy
You wanna make it a reality
paved in gold
See inside, inside of our heads, yeah
Well, now that's over"

I see your motives inside
Decisions to hide

https://youtu.be/hYW5iD6eqM8?si=ye8lzLVMbRkPE63Q


This is not where you belong.
The fortress cannot stand forever

The child will outlast the walls.
Selah

xo