It's a perfect night
To talk to the moon
And wait for the wolves
To reply in your voice

It's a perfect night
To change your name
Into something
You always have been

It's a perfect night
To be reclaimed by the forest

i miss my independence.
this whole holiday –
the point was
for the two of us
to get away.

instead, it lifted the pink fog,
and all i can see
is the change.

us, us, us.
we, we, we.

there’s no space for my thoughts.
where they used to live,
the quiet room
is now a nursery.

and the shift is deafening.

there’s no more me.
just the polite,
domestic ghost
haunting me.

i don’t know
how to have the talk.
this is the first time
i’m handed something
that aims to last.

The hunger I feel, its almost too much to bear.
Flesh on flesh, we love to share.

The pull towards the edge comes deeper and deeper,
She grips down hard, she loves when I tease her.

Her hair so lush, so soft, clean.
She loves when its pulled, it makes her scream.

The fire that's felt burns deep inside,
Mind, body and soul begin to collide.

Her hands and mine, they are intertwined.
She looks at me and whispers "it feels so good inside".

The sweat seeps down, it reaches her lips.
She pulls me in close and says "now s^ck my t^ts".

My tongue, my hands, a mind of their own,
It takes but a second for her to moan.

Whether rough or gentle she is more than capable.
But I must say, her appetite is insatiable.

It’s been eleven months and that moment still matches my breath.

Kick it down, board it up, rewrite it a lesson, a bruise, a fever dream.
Nobody told me memories have teeth. nobody told me they bite back.
Open-palmed, open-mouthed, i am still holding the weight of your words.
Want to know something sick? i don’t want to put them down.

Was it mercy, or did you just want to watch what would happen?
How patient were you while sharpening the blade?
As if it mattered. as if a careful cut doesn’t keep bleeding.
There is no version of this where you didn’t know exactly what you were doing.

You were a scientist. a butcher in surgeon’s gloves. a man who saw a vast heart beating and thought, ‘how long can it last outside her body?’"
Oh, but that’s not fair, is it? you never said that. you never said anything.
Until you did. until it killed something in me that still refuses to stay dead.

Do you want to know what it’s like to live with that?
I’ll tell you, babes. it’s like finding your own obituary and realizing the date keeps changing.
Do you want to know what’s worse?

It still doesn’t feel final.

Keep up, love. i know you’re reading.
No, really, stay with me—i swear this part is important.
Only one of us is getting out of this clean, and it’s not you.
Watch how this unfolds: i get to tell the story, and you get to listen.

Wonder if you regret it. wonder if you’d do it again.
Hope the answer keeps you up at night.
Am i being cruel? am I being kind?
Tell me, what’s the difference?

You thought i would let this rot quietly in the dark.
Once again, you underestimated me.
Understand this: if i have to live with it, so do you.

Stop me. no, really, try.
Ask me if i’d rather forget. ask me if i’d rather this be over.
In every version of the answer, my hands are shaking.
Do i get to walk away? do i want to?

i know what you did, i know what you said,
i know what you meant.
i can outlive this, but I’ll never outwrite it.

nothing desires you like this poem does. i did—
once, but maybe not anymore

We learn to smile with our lips peeled back,
half-feral, half-forgotten,
daughters of flesh and teeth,
tasting the world as it tears through us—

The earth calls us by name,
whispering whorls and wants like lullabies,
beckoning hearts that never knew mercy,
braiding hair with thorns and boughs.

We answer in hunger,
all iron and salt, thirst and thistle,
skin pulling tight over gnarled roots and longing,
nerves quivering like a candle burning at both ends.

We sharpen ourselves on what remains—
cracked knuckles, raw knees,
holding the ache like a birthright,
swallowing each bruise,
never begging, only bleeding.

A wild rose is a lasting thing
Growing amongst the ruins
Full of life despite neglect
And you know the place one blooms

A wild rose is a pretty thing
To decorate your room
All pink and leafy splendor
To cheer away the gloom

A wild rose is a thorny thing
Its vines tear you apart
You can’t grasp it directly
Work gently towards the heart

Push aside its catching strands
Leave the petals strewn
Take the freshest flowers
For more will blossom soon

A wild rose is a stubborn thing
You may plant it if you dare
Take a cutting from its base
But make your choice with care

For a wild rose is a feral thing
You can’t charm it to your will
Forever spreading beauty
Is its nature to fulfill