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

Of Her, and the Sun

Cassette A.

1 min read

It touched me today—

The sunlight.

Soft, golden, bold in its return.

I stood quite still,

As though the warmth might vanish if I breathed too loudly.

It reminded me—

Not of summer,

But of her.

Not her beauty, for that would be too simple.

But the way her hair loosens at the nape by evening,

How she presses her lips together when thinking,

Then forgets to unpress them for minutes after.

She woul...

Poetry

In the Details

Cassette A.

2 min read

The studio smelled of turpentine and orange peels, sunlight slanting in through the high windows like liquid gold. Canvases leaned like drunken soldiers against the far wall, all of them incomplete. The only finished piece—an oil painting of a woman with a storm in her eyes and a half-smile playing on her lips—hung above the easel like a quiet deity.

“You’re wasting your time,” the muse said flat...

A Hymn for the Hollow

Cassette A.

1 min read

moonshine drips from your mouth,

not liquor—no,

just the sweet sting of a name I forgot to forget.

you speak in tongues,

and I drink every lie like it might let me sleep.

you were never gentle,

only soft in the dark.

I mistook that for mercy.

but you burn like Sunday guilt

and leave ash on the pillows.

moonlight was the look in your eyes

when you promised you’d stay.

not light—not grace—

just ...

Poetry

Where the Shadows Keep Their Secrets

Cassette A.

1 min read

We all look the same in the dark—

bones beneath skin,

lips sealed tight like tombs

where the stories lie rotting.

No color, no scars,

no weight of past decisions

etched into the hollows of our cheeks.

Just shadows pretending

we’re clean.

Touch me there—

not the skin,

but the silence that clings to it.

You’ll find

not a person,

but a battlefield

dressed in flesh.

You’ll find the ghosts

I swallowed...

Poetry

Chapter 9:

Cassette A.

2 min read

**“Women Love Jerks—So Stop Being So Damn Nice”**

From Alpha Ascension: How to Win at Life Without Ever Changing by Brad “Steel” Hammerstone

Let me ask you a question, my man:

Have you ever poured your heart out to a girl, wrote her sweet messages, remembered her dog’s birthday, and then watched her run off with a guy who responds to her texts three days late and calls her “dude”?

Exactly. Y...

Humour

Laced in Crimson, Lost in Glass

Cassette A.

3 min read

In the heart of the crumbling town of Vaelridge, where the fog rolls in heavy and the lamplight flickers like dying stars, children never sang lullabies. They whispered rhymes instead, each one darker than the last. The most infamous?

“Two go in, and one comes out,

Love turns whispers into shouts.

In the house of crimson lace,

One will vanish—leave no trace.”

No one knew where the rhyme had star...

Horror

Romance

To Be Seen

Cassette A.

1 min read

All her life,

she was the afterthought—

the name called last,

the one they forgot.

She learned to smile

with quiet grace,

while hiding hurt

she couldn’t place.

But then came someone

who saw her whole,

who chose her first—

heart, mind, and soul.

And in his eyes,

she finally knew:

being chosen last

was never about you....

Poetry

A Poem (I Guess) for My Wife

Cassette A.

1 min read

**(By Your Husband, Who Tried) **

Roses are red,

but so is the warning light in my truck when I don’t check the oil.

You tell me to check it.

I don’t.

You love me anyway.

That’s love, right?

You’re like… a good lawn mower.

Dependable. Strong.

Gets the job done but also doesn’t yell when I forget to do the trimming.

Okay, sometimes you yell. But like, in a cute way.

You’re the touchdown in my ot...

Poetry

Humour

Palimpsest

Cassette A.

1 min read

**((Trying something new—story writing isn’t usually my thing, so feel free to share any feedback!))**

It began with the ticking.

Not the clock—no, that had long since been silenced, its hands twisted backward in a gesture of defiance or prayer. This was deeper. This was the sound the world made when it held its breath too long. When it remembered. The ticking lived beneath the floorboards now...

Mystery

Thriller

Ode to the Girl Who Thought It Was Love

Cassette A.

2 min read

O fragile body,

temple of soft skin and wildfire spirit,

how many times have you been unwrapped

by hands that mistook possession for love?

O heart that loved too deeply,

you were taught that love

meant giving,

and giving,

and giving

until you were nothing but an echo

in someone else’s mouth.

If only this world could show me a little more mercy—

not bind me in ribbons of silence,

not cradle me in ...

Poetry