#beneath
At six, I stood in silver rain,
Barefoot, trembling, yet drawn again.
My skin a mirror, wet and bright,
Streetlights whispered to the night.
She emerged, dreamlike, a fragrant tide,
With curves and grace no storm could hide.
Her scent wove jasmine, warmth, and fire,
A sweetness tinged with dark desire.
She clicked her umbrella, soft and low,
"Come here, child," her voice did flow.
Her hand took mine, so warm, so kind,
A gentler path I soon did find.
Against her softness, I did rest,
My cheek upon her gathering breast.
Her heat diffused through rainy air,
A haven lived and cradled there.
The storm surged on, a fierce ballet,
Yet in her shelter, calm did stay.
Her breath rose soft, her whisper sweet,
A quiet rhythm, heart's retreat.
Through swaying hips and steps that spun,
She carried me
her warmth, my sun.
3d ago
May 31, 2026 at 12:53 AM UTC
Come closer
no more distance pretending to be restraint.
Even your stillness burns me now…
and I am tired of worshipping you from afar.
Undo it
slowly.
Let the world fall from your body piece by piece,
as if each layer has been lying about you.
That girdle
remove it.
It holds nothing I desire.
What I want cannot be contained.
That careful armor
take it off.
Let lesser eyes starve outside this moment.
I am not here for what is shown
I am here for what trembles underneath.
Loosen yourself…
yes, like that
let the sound of it falling
be the first confession of your body.
I watch… not as a stranger,
but as something already claimed by your gravity.
That clasp at your chest
how it dares to linger where I ache to be.
How it touches what I have not yet earned.
Remove it.
Let your dress fall
not as fabric,
but as surrender.
You rise from it
like heat from the earth at dusk,
soft, inevitable… dangerous.
Take down your hair
let it spill, let it claim its wild right.
I don’t want you arranged
I want you undone.
Step out of everything
that teaches you to hesitate.
Come here.
This bed is not softness
it is a threshold.
And you…
you are no longer something to admire
you are something to enter, to feel, to lose direction inside.
Let my hands move
not gently, not carefully
but truthfully.
They will learn you
the way hunger learns the body,
without apology.
Before… behind…
where breath catches and thought dissolves
I will find you there.
You are not land
yet I discover you like something forbidden,
something that answers back.
And every inch of you says yes
in a language older than restraint.
There is no innocence here
only honesty.
No shame
only fire given permission.
So don’t hide now.
Not when the moment has already opened its mouth around us.
Look at me
I have nothing left between myself and you.
No distance.
No disguise.
Only this
this need,
this heat,
this unbearable wanting
that speaks through my hands
before it ever reaches my lips.
Come
finish what your body has already begun.
Apr 28
Apr 28, 2026 at 12:08 AM UTC
In the small-heart of a tired town, where shadows fold like linen at dusk,
a young poet stacks his altar word by word,
stone by shimmering stone.
His lines rise like incense, thin and reckless,
carried by winds he still believes he can tame.
Beneath that altar, under the wooden ribs and trembling dreams,
an old poet pays the rent.
Silver in his beard, dust in his pockets,
a lifetime inked on the inside of his palms.
He watches with a soft, half-tired smile
as youth builds temples he once built
and worships gods he once knew by name.
The young poet writes constellations
as if the sky were his to arrange
every stanza a new star,
every metaphor a promise to outrun time.
The old poet, quiet as a page turned slowly,
pays in silence:
with years, with aches, with the weight of things he learned too late.
His rent is not in coins,
but in the humility that comes when fire cools to ember.
Yet together they keep the place alive
the altar rising, the foundation holding.
A duet of ages:
vision and memory,
flame and ash,
a beginning standing on the shoulders of what endures.
And in that narrow room of light and dust,
the young poet dreams upward,
the old poet holds the ground
and the future, sly and smiling,
rents space in both their hearts.
Nov 30, 2025
Nov 30, 2025 at 11:17 PM UTC
.
in a dream beneath a dream
behind thick curtains
i did ******
deeper still
under water weight
and cold
i was appointed soldier
and did exactly what i was told
in even deeper dreams
under planetary crust
under trapdoor
a drown of ***** dark
pubescent magma flow
a slurry of
unguarded
thought
down here
i committed things
i'll never speak of
or
dare
admit
to
paper
Nov 27, 2025
Nov 27, 2025 at 8:53 PM UTC
Beneath the drum of days
my heart lies chained—
too tired to wake the part of me
that might release it.
Both have lost hope.
Both wait like dark stones
on the ocean floor,
clinging to the depths that hold them.
When will I be enough?
When the sun dries the sea?
When my heart turns to salt—
white, brittle,
a cure for someone else’s wounds?
I have waited so long
that oblivion laughs at me
from eternity’s window,
teeth arranged in perfect rows
like a shark.
If all that’s left of my life
are black eyes beneath the surface,
then I will drift in the wonder
of my folly,
matching it in fathoms
forever.
Beneath, I am beneath—
a being being eaten
by unprocessed grief.
Beneath, I am beneath,
and you won’t find me anymore,
for where I am
is too deep,
too deep,
too deep.
Nov 9, 2025
Nov 9, 2025 at 7:39 PM UTC
wrong
no
not me
you think me into a shape that splits at the seams
skin folds inside-out
teeth where the eyes should be
your thought is a cage made of guesses
bars bending inward
cutting my ribs each time you remember me wrong
blood pooling in letters you’ll never read
stop
stop
stop
you’re sewing me together with rusted wire
hands too eager, eyes too blind
each stitch a scream I can’t get out of my throat
I am not the doll you built in the dark
I am the rot beneath it
the smell in the walls
the shadow that won’t match your light
think of me again and I’ll splinter in your skull
leave splinters in your hands when you try to pull me out
you’ll bleed thinking my name
Aug 10, 2025
Aug 10, 2025 at 11:09 PM UTC
The face
Beneath all of those layers
Of skin is one
That doesn't need prayers
It just needs to realize
That everything is real
Mar 29, 2025
Mar 29, 2025 at 7:07 PM UTC
Aqueous bombs descend from these eyes /
As I wonder beneath nightfall. /
Seeing, hearing the kaleidoscopic dream /
As it unravels, unfurls through me /
Heightens my perceptivities. /
I am luminous, I am luminous /
As I glisten upon the dreamscape. /
I am a cosmic reverberation, /
An ethereal resonation /
Luminosity, blue-hot./
Self-sovereignty: /
I am a freedom all my own, /
Lows (algid), /
Highs (empyreal, pyroclastic); /
I am astral. /
Aug 12, 2024
Aug 12, 2024 at 9:46 PM UTC
Lumpenproletariat's
Comprise the population
Revolutionized, new variants
Attempt consolidation.
Socialist experiments or
Anthropology's deviation?
Avoidance- societal detriments of health:
Classism's obliteration.
Nov 5, 2023
Nov 5, 2023 at 12:45 PM UTC
Between us and this divided sea
Between us and this dying sun
Between us and this pale blue sky
Between us and the raging tide
Between us and running time
Between us and yesterday's dreams
Between us and tomorrow's sleep
Between us and the drying leaves
Between us and winter's grave
Between us and summer's taste
Between us and this beating heart
Between us and what's beneath
Are the remnants of our interlaced
Fingers
Still holding onto
Love
Hope
And some reason to
Breathe
Jan 26, 2022
Jan 26, 2022 at 9:38 PM UTC
Permafrost can go
As deep as
2 miles into
The earth
Way down there
Are these plants
Still alive and
Waiting to be
Discovered or
Thawed out
There's all this
Living stuff
Underneath us
Just waiting to bloom
Dec 18, 2021
Dec 18, 2021 at 2:45 AM UTC
Slip beneath the smile adorning face
Make-up concealing my imperfect skin
Under surface is an entire world
Depression I carefully cage within
Facade shows happiness
Layered to disguise the pain
Flesh outside beautifully sculpted
So wounds won't bleed
They remain
Hair brushed three dozen times
Light and wind take toll
There is fear fueling my sails
Yet I manage to control
Within heart inside my chest
War rages
There is no sign
Like a lost puppy wander the earth
Dusty road winding path of mine
Craving stars my eyes once reflected
Leading back to inner peace
In dark zero lights twinkle
Waiting for despair's release
And slide into a familiar costume
Pulling me out of dismay
Shatters and exposes truth
Soul with too many demons to slay
Nov 5, 2021
Nov 5, 2021 at 9:01 AM UTC
Disguised beneath layers ever so seamless
Sewn together with intricate pattern and stitch
Embroidered smiles and elaborate costumes
Well rehearsed, prepped and ready for performance
Play the cards, pluck the strings, sing the songs
Play the parts, put on the grandest of shows
The funniest thing is that not a one knows
The amount of rights and wrongs
The close proximity, yet vast distance
How hands ache, shake, and twitch
Some think it to be needless
But never could that be further from the truth
Each and every door within each and every floor
Of the corridors of my mapless mind
The maze that it is
Holds puzzles, pieces, and clues
To the one hidden just beneath the surface
Dreaming of once again seeing the light
After after such plight
Every mask
Every side
Delicate fabrics and fragile seams
Sewn with trembling hands
Guide an inexplicable force
Perhaps a strange task
Hidden among wildest dreams
Set for an unknown course
With each that falls away
Another takes their place
A mysterious entity
Behind the face
Beneath the handiwork of the seamstress
Sewing and patching every hole
Desperate for every layer to stay
Remain no matter the cost
All for what purpose?
What is it that they hide,
That they hold so near and dear?
Such is unknown,
Or perhaps forgotten
Lost in the course of time
- Jay M
April 30th, 2021
Aug 29, 2021
Aug 29, 2021 at 2:26 AM UTC
My mind is a dark place I can't navigate,
Last night my bad dreams took over me.
Everyday gets harder and harder,
I'm trying but no one can see.
I just want to try and heal,
But I'm struggling to find a home.
I want to be okay,
I don't want to be alone.
I know we all have our broken pieces,
Mine are getting harder to hold after long.
The pieces cut be beneath the skin,
I was a fool to think I could be strong.
Apr 30, 2021
Apr 30, 2021 at 1:02 PM UTC
a memory dangling; a heart wrenching,
thy body has a lot to offer though,
far beneath the widespread sea- thou breaking,
I do shall return; my head bowing low
Nov 2, 2020
Nov 2, 2020 at 4:29 AM UTC
She was silent a mute, or so they thought.
Butterflies would frequent her abode.
Dancing around a kaleidoscope of words fluttering
around her, she was like a lantern in the dark
and they seemed to be drawn to her.
But where colour was imbued above,
below in unseen hollow spaces,
there were remnant glimmers.
Fragmentation's of what was but deathly hues
enveloped in the frigid cadaverous silence.
There was no flying from where they'd fell,
like autumn's leaves falling off the
tree of life now they were obscurity.
No one knew that she was able to talk,
but she was an empath,
collecting the negativity of those
around her.
Everyone thought she was in a mood.
She'd just look at them with sad eyes.
But she played it cool to everyone around her.
They're all happy but she whispered all
the woes of every word expelled,
she tried to play it cool..
But when she told the butterflies what she knew they
feel frigid, cold.
They wanted her company, but they hid under her
bed hiding the depression that fractured
there every movement.
She always tried to show positivity,
but the shards cut her feet underneath her
bed.
But above was rainbows where beneath the
fragmentation of emotions screamed.
Oct 23, 2020
Oct 23, 2020 at 6:18 PM UTC
___Brims curving gently
Beneath the glimmering sun
Bonnets in full bloom.___
Aug 28, 2020
Aug 28, 2020 at 7:51 PM UTC
Ill never write with the constructs
of ink no matter its shading,
as it has no edges, no fear or freedom.
Instead I use a scalpel to cut clean words
even though not evidentially visible
all cuts have meaning.
But ever metaphorical stain takes
time to show its meaning..
You may not see what I mean
i write in a different manner to
you.
But let time show the interpretation
that was there but never understood
till you looked beneath the incise significance
even if not seen now,
just realise its there...
Aug 19, 2020
Aug 19, 2020 at 5:55 PM UTC
I used to run across the Moherian cliffs
And jump to catch the first sunlight nether wisps
As they twinkled like dawning fireflies shone
In the jar of a hopeful wish
For as just as in your hand there mine own exists
Con·tent·edly
Aug 4, 2020
Aug 4, 2020 at 7:54 PM UTC
It comes in deep waves
first the warmth,
then the chill;
the salty taste that overpowers,
and the foam that seeks to fill.
Above beckons the alternating current
a body becomes stretched
only to sink,
and rise no more beneath the surface;
past the seaweed
among the fiery reef,
beware,
there lurks the end of still life.
Soon when muscles ache
when there is no fight left
with such heavy limbs that struggle;
heed my tepid words
when the dark clouds form,
it's much better to sink low,
and embrace the undertow.
Jul 29, 2020
Jul 29, 2020 at 8:34 AM UTC
For the well was deep,
and the water
endless.
But I broke on the surface,
Never sinking beneath
The fractured
reflection of the abyss..
Jul 7, 2020
Jul 7, 2020 at 3:38 PM UTC
I felt like the titanic,
we're perfectly sailing along
on our sea of dreams..
But I never looked below
the surface.
We were about to crash
upon the other..
Cutting me beneath
the surface.
Not immediately visible.
But you slowly sank me,
my life boats of emotion
empty as I had nothing left..
.
my heart serenaded as it sank
beneath the waves..
And all that was left.
The wreckage of my dreams,
As I sank beneath the
surface.. I'm never sailing free...
May 1, 2020
May 1, 2020 at 4:38 PM UTC
No ocean neath falls
Or sand drops ere out of place
Beneath the cresting
Turning waves inadequate
All is home in tidal place
Jan 5, 2020
Jan 5, 2020 at 12:26 PM UTC
Where raindrops crash so quietly
Speaking soft with subtle sounds aloud
And in a language to be seen around
Like moving hands their white ripples fade
Out into conversations crowned with mist
The kind of sweeping breath alive
Which breaths itself out atop the waters edge
Just as words once hung on the morning dew
Now they wake with joy and are gone the next
As a calming way on this crustless wave
The waters return beneath and rest
Jan 1, 2020
Jan 1, 2020 at 10:32 PM UTC