Can't Feel You Anymore

I can't feel you anymore...

I feel alive again—and so much more.

Everyone can see the shift,

How I smile and laugh once more.

I lost my smile for a while...

Dead eyes, and my soul paid the price.

It drained me dry, took its toll—

Yet you twisted it into some sick goal.

You mocked my rants,

Because all you cared about was the girl in hot pants.

That motherly care you swore was rare—

Yet you pick another, as if we’re all on some timeshare.

I was on the floor...

Now I rise, ready to stomp once more.

When I burned with rage,

You made vile remarks about my age—

As if I were on a stage,

As if I were meant to rot in a cage...

And now you preach like you were always a sage.

You want to preserve your unborn child...

I hope she reads this all one day,

A legacy of tears you can never hide.

Not just for one, but for all—

Who acted as if this witch deserved to be burnt.

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The Spotted Cucumber

One fine day, tired of "always my way," I reached for comfort, or maybe just a craving. Picked up a spotted cucumber— Seemed harmless enough, so why not? But the moment I touched it, it pricked. Unwanted timber in my hands, Yet I let it be—what else could I do? Hunger led me to peel its layers, Only to find the filth it hid underneath. Worms writhing where freshness should be, Rot, disguised as something nourishing. I thought it was doing me a favor, But all it did was make me sick. Never knew comfort could leave such a taste— Bitter enough to spill my guts out. Next time, I’d rather reach for something rich, Something warm, indulgent, and worth my time. A smooth, chocolaty éclair— Rather than ever go for such a comfortable, unhealthy affair.

Us Two

As the hands struck two… Can you feel my hands on you? The power of the universe with just us two I am so into you. Who’s counting the minutes? Only we know what we brew. Even if the world fades to dark, We shine brighter in our spark. Your lips brush my nape, Undoing the shyness of my drapes. As your fingertips trace me, I melt like that slice of brie.

Temptress

I wanna be your temptress, Get you down on my mattress. You be the king, I'll be your empress. I already have a clear purpose, You can trace every curve and surface. I've got one mission for you— Are you built for the secret service? Let me take a bite of that apple, Can you make me pray without taking me to the chapel? They call me a wolf, but I will bear your saddle, Make me howl like the moon's lone disciple. Either play this like a boring game of Scrabble, Or get your armor on and be ready for a passionate battle.

Cruising Alone

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