In the delirium of pain, a speaker discovers that there is something almost luxurious about suffering that does not lie. Bitter, surreal, and acid-tongued, the poem drifts through fever, betrayal, and the humiliating relief of a wound with no hidden agenda.

When the body becomes easier to understand than the heart, even infection can start to feel merciful. This poem uses Lyme disease as a darkly comic point of contrast, exposing the absurdity of preferring physical illness to the chaos of intimate harm.

A woman stops asking for her betrayer’s downfall and starts asking for her own beautiful return. It moves from razor wire to silk, from confinement to release, from survival to the possibility of being loved in the correct language.

A literary mouth-off dressed in Oz imagery: this poem moves through yellow roads, false kingdoms, and poppy fields to ask what courage means when silence has already chosen its side.

A nurse who has spent years holding the line for everyone else is forced to confront the limits of devotion. A sharp poem about helplessness, procedure, and the awful fluency of continuing after your life has split open.

A tarot-structured essay about love, manipulation, and the reckoning that comes when you finally read the spread clearly.

A sharper, more feral remix of Hey Nurse!, this poem reclaims the nurse beneath the echo, naming burnout, grief, and rage with its teeth still in.

A narrative poem about burnout, devotion, institutional exhaustion, and the strange afterlife of being needed by everyone except yourself.

A poem of institutional fury and hard-earned authority, confronting the polished language of the “industry” with the lived knowledge it too often tries to overwrite.