Cassette A.

Writing feelings down makes me feel okay, sometimes. :))

Writings

Followers

Following

Cassette A.

Writing feelings down makes me feel okay, sometimes. :))

Writings

Followers

Following

A Function, Not A Feeling

Cassette A.

1 min read

It is not a thing of poetry.

It does not ache. It does not long.

It is a fist, clenching, releasing,

a machine of muscle and impulse,

wet and red, unthinking, unfeeling.

It does not flutter. It does not break.

It contracts like a steel trap,

like a piston firing in rhythm,

a cycle, a pattern, a function.

It does not sing your name.

It pounds like a hammer against bone,

not for beauty, not for lo...

Poetry

Empty Ledger

Cassette A.

1 min read

I deal in hearts, not coin or land,

invest in you, then leave unmanned.

You’ll search for worth in what we were,

but love was never mine to stir.

And when you ask how much you’ve lost,

know I was rich before the cost....

Poetry

How Does A Hand Forget ?

Cassette A.

1 min read

Held in open hands—

a blade or a trembling rose.

Both will leave a scar....

Poetry

The Ritual

Cassette A.

1 min read

Lip gloss four times, never three,

Or he won’t want to look at me.

Mascara ten or I’ll seem plain,

Too much and he’ll call me vain.

A kiss to prove I know my place,

A second so he’ll still embrace.

My hand in his, just soft enough—

Too firm, I’m needy. Too light, too tough.

I count, I fix, I do it right—

But when did love start feeling tight?...

Poetry

The Dead Musicians’ Support Group

Cassette A.

1 min read

The bird sings at dawn, a melody soft and bright,

but it is not her voice—

not the song that once spilled from her lips,

filling these walls with golden sound.

Now the silence swallows the notes whole,

leaving only the hush of loss.

The sunlight drapes itself across the floor,

warm as the brush of her fingertips,

but it does not dance as she did.

She would twirl between dust motes, laughing,

spin...

Poetry

Still, I Bloom

Cassette A.

1 min read

You are a wildflower,

untamed and golden,

blooming where the wind lays you down.

You stretch toward the sun,

rooted in nothing but freedom,

a whisper of color in the quiet earth.

The bees hum your name,

the breeze bends for you,

the world is softer where you stand.

I am a weed.

A thing unwelcome, unchosen,

growing in the cracks where no one looks.

My roots are stubborn, deep and desperate,

clingi...

Poetry

The Ruin We Become

Cassette A.

3 min read

**((Trying to write some stories—let me know how I can improve!))**

The cathedral stood at the edge of the world, a skeleton of stone and sorrow. Stained glass, fractured by time, cast dying colors across the ruins, and the air reeked of burned roses.

Lucian knelt at the altar, his breath shallow, his hands shaking. He had come here to escape—to silence the voices that followed him like ghosts...

Fantasy

Permission Denied

Cassette A.

1 min read

**((I don’t usually write like this. Let me know what you think or if there’s anything I can improve!))**

They measure me in silence,

watchful eyes behind cold glass,

checking the lines of my mouth,

the stillness of my hands.

I have learned the rules well—

a nod, a breath, a careful blink.

Never too much. Never too little.

Emotion is a privilege, not a right.

Inside, my heart is a clenched fist...

To Give My Womb, To Give My Word

Cassette A.

1 min read

I make my body a temple,

sanctify it with sacrifice,

alter my blood, my breath, my being—

all in the name of creation.

I swallow fire, kneel to the clock,

stretch myself open to fate.

Month after month, I bleed, I break,

I gather the pieces and begin again.

You take, you turn, you sleep.

I bear the burden, and you call it ours....

Poetry

The Lake Takes All

Cassette A.

1 min read

A hush fell over Erie’s tide,

Where silver mist and secrets hide.

Through curling fog, a shadow spread—

A duck, alone, with wings outstretched.

She touched the water, smooth as glass,

A quiet place to breathe at last.

The wind had torn, the sky had burned,

Yet here, she thought, the tides had turned.

But whispers slithered through the deep,

Soft ripples coiled and tugged her feet.

The lake, it s...

Poetry