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Pitch Dark Soliloquy

“Carnival sins, I lay in your distress and only see myself as a bomb. Carnival sins, I don’t take responsibility for my ignorance and indifference. Carnival sins, I clutch on to my weaknesses and dwell in the shadows. Carnival sins, I see the clowns but recognize I’m the jester without a smile carrying a plastic laugh. Carnival sins, I bleed poetry that you can’t comprehend and my tears fall within the metaphors. Carnival sins, I’m dying on the inside and my wretched skin is peeling. Carnival skins, I am a color you wish that never existed. Carnival sins, I plead guilty for not loving my identity. Carnival sins, I don’t sleep in your coffin but dance in your cemetery. Carnival sins, my tears are deaf and the silence is scorching. Carnival sins, don’t you feel what i feel? Carnival sins, I am the wind you can’t feel. I am the enigma that awakens your nightmares.”

My books are available here.

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Beauty of my Chaos (Brittany Waters)

I stopped searching for answers in the corridors and the empty halls. I stopped searching for whispers where my frustrations growled. I stopped searching for innocence where scars burned. I stopped searching for the lullaby on the carousel and in the carnival. I stopped searching for the exclamation point in this longwinded sentence. I stopped searching for the dreams that evaporated and the hollow river I never felt. But I struggled to find beauty in my chaos.

I stopped searching for the acknowledgement from the copycats, finger pointers, and instigators. I stopped searching for my identity within the affection of lovers and takers. I stopped searching for pieces in a whirlwind of anxiety. I stopped searching for forgiveness from acquaintances with an image. I stopped searching for devotion from perfectionists. I stopped searching for laughter in cursed temptations. I stopped searching for beliefs with the unblemished appearance. But I struggled to find harmony in my imbalance.

I stopped searching for approval from rambling critics. l stopped searching for flames with sky-scraping expectations. I stopped searching for peace where there was social combustion. I stopped searching for engagement that turned lethal. I stopped searching for
supremacy within my crumbling doubt. I stopped searching for loyalty from nonbelievers. I stopped searching for kindness from callous hearts. But I struggled to find charm in my flickering character.

My books are available on Amazon.

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Joined in Holy Matrimony (Coleman Kerr)

I married a mannequin who sleeps in expensive clothes. I married someone who has been convicted of aggravated silence. I married a vegetarian who salivates when I eat meat. I married someone who sleeps during the day and is a scavenger at night. I married an owl with haunting and debilitating eyesight.
I married a rainmaker who is infatuated with the clouds in the hollow sky. I married a wallflower who strolls in a pastel garden. I married a boxer who punches with their sarcasm. I married a contextualist who takes everything out of context. I married a war who seeks out a battle. I married a liar who impersonates being a lawyer.

I married a cheater who is terrified to gamble. I married a bloodhound who laughs at fear. I married a stop sign who runs through a red light. I married a drifter who is clingy. I married a myth who tells long winded fairy tales. I married the dark who refuses to seek any light. I married a nightmare who is afraid to dream. I married a stigma who can’t see anything positive. I married a character who is fictional. I married an impressionist who never made a desirable impression. I married a run on sentence in a poorly constructed paragraph. I married a doubter who believes in Jesus Christ. I married a critical spirit with a vacant soul. I married a peasant who spends money like they’re worth a million.

I married a question mark who believes they have all the answers. I married a language who struggles to communicate. I married a cup of toxicity with a pinch of selfishness. I married a witch that can’t cast any spells. I married someone that is directionally challenged but carries a compass in her pocket. I married a confession who is often speechless. I married a lover who is incapable of giving love. I married a bricklayer that loves to build walls. I married a theory who doesn’t comprehend science and facts. I married a killer who didn’t understand what it meant to live. I married a corpse who didn’t understand what it meant to be alive.

My books are available on Amazon.

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Wildflower and a Whisper

For you, I was your wildflower and a whisper
I was drowning in your crimson flames
Letters from my jagged and jaded soul burnt
Free falling, lost your touch in the summer rain
I was sleeping in your elastic and lucid dream
a snowflake evaporating on your sleek tongue
I was just a temporary fascination and wonder
For you, I was your wildflower and a whisper
I was descending in your artificial paradise
Letters written from my heartbroken tears
Slipping, invisible to your smooth-spoken ego
I was growing dimmer in your nebulous eyes
a blanket you never wanted to feel and cradle
I was too invincible and priceless for you to hold

My books are available on Amazon.

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I am a connoisseur of analogies and a lost paragraph. The expectations are nonexistent and the inconsistencies are bloodletting. I’ve washed my hands in rain and rinse them in agony. I hate to stare in my complexion of mediocrity. I walk around with a fistful of aspirations and cough up restlessness. She keeps the awakening truth inside her shell. She ignores the knock on the door of confrontation.My knuckles are shaking. I spell out my fantasies in luscious ink as she pretends to read them.

I am the cerebral nighthawk that dances in the moonlight and dreams like a joker. I follow the road without a sign, just the sound of dragonflies, and the heartbreaking temptations.She’s made claims that I have acquaintances and sidekicks. She’s joined in holy matrimony with a introverted cynic who’s dying on the inside as the second hand moves. She holds in her frustrations and the fears stuck to her palms. I play with riddles and hide between the ten feet conundrums. I play with her subconscious and the ghosts that appear in her sleep. The end is just the beginning and the beginning is just a part of the end.

My books are available here.

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Coming Soon!

✨Release Date: 3/5/2024

Once Upon A Rain, She Bloomed

Between shadows and memory, one woman’s diary elucidates relationships come and gone, those who helped shape who she is from the inside out. Turning the rain into something beautiful, the opening petals of a rose now blooming.

Veteran poet Braeden Michaels crafts his seventh collection of poetry into a mold of vision. Like pages from a twisted fairy tale, he narrates using his unique poetic style and perspective, first dissecting emotion before reconstructing and reimagining each one.

Pre order: Once Upon A Rain, She Bloomed

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Bottle of shadows

Leave me a pile of scrutiny
Leave me a bag of aggravation
and I will toss it in the dying closet

Leave me a tiny bit of solitude
Leave me an ounce of spoiled milk
and I will throw it in the empty pantry

Leave me a gallon of spiked juice
Leave me a shred of laughter
and I will painfully swallow the bits

Leave me a bottle of shadows
Leave me a jug of sarcasm
and I will watch myself drown

Leave me a tank of affection
Leave me a plate of dirty lies
and I will break another mirror

Leave me a pair of worn out glasses
Leave me a little bit of rust
and I will never see my heart ache

My books are available here.

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excerpt from “Unpaved Crossroads”

I’ve seen the icicles hang in the burning silhouette
I’ve been reminded of the unspoken truth
caressing my frozen ghosts
I’ve crawled between the spider like despair and mesmerizing sunset

Let the explanations seep and bellow
Let the justifications trickle down my face
Let the interpretations subside in the dusk
Let the denial drip down my pale cheek
I plead with my contradictions

I’ve tugged on my restlessness and uneven faith
I’ve been surrounded by strangers with
mind numbing tension
I’ve sought out simplicity but eroded into complexity

Let the explanations seep and bellow
Let the justifications trickle down my face
Let the interpretations subside in the dusk
Let the denial drip down my pale cheek
I plead with my contradictions

I’ve drifted away from the sympathy and magnetized to the obscurity
I’ve stolen hidden glances in my sleep and dream of the awakening
I’ve ran from fears wrestling in the dark and disappear in the light

Let the explanations seep and bellow
Let the justifications trickle down my face
Let the interpretations subside in the dusk
Let the denial drip down my pale cheek
I plead with my contradictions

My books are available here.

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Once upon a blistering silhouette
I wiped away my tears with feathers from
the bitterness, I slept with misery and
the faults I refused to see, the sun
disappeared and my heart is vacant,
the veil is ragged and torn, the anguish
is dispersed and I wallow in the fields
of exhaustion, guided by thorns and
a cloud of animosity without a compass,
I use to embrace the darkness, I bellow
from the exotic tremors, hoping to discover
the light I have forgotten, I have gripping
dreams and an isolated peace I misplaced

My books are available here .

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excerpt from “The Raven’s Poison”

Even the devil himself chuckles
The moon is carved with your lies
Tangled up in your demented mind
Serenaded by demonic gargoyles
Stains of convoluted fairytales twitch
Nightmares glide through your skull
as you become the twisted spin doctor
Even the devil himself despises you
The haunted tree is covered in your sins
Using the phrase “sick and dying” to draw attention
The line for the roller coaster to hell
banishes the disturbed and psychopathic rants
Even the devil himself cringes at your name
Fearing your chameleon sadistic skin
Wallowing in your fragile bones
Be careful what you curve with your tongue

My books are available here.

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I’m jittery but calm in my logic. I parade these streets with echoes and slippery sentiments. I feel misplaced, misguided, and my feet continue to fumble. I struggle with intimacy and the white lies I swallow. I walk with expectations that I can’t see and standards that I can’t comprehend. I ignore my swirling instincts and lackadaisical intuition. I camouflage my fears with sophomoric humor and childish innuendos. I cough up resentment on a daily basis.

I wear my pride like a tattoo with animosity sewn to my arms. I am slightly dysfunctional and walk with a scorched tongue. I have an appetite to be understood than loved. Love is just a mirror that shatters over and over. Affection is just an object that we all hunger.
I wiped away the frustration from my eyes and see myself residing in the winter’s scream. Please don’t hold me, just reach in to breathe in my cold air.

My books are available here.

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Ceramic Villains

stomach acid
gorges the frame of the picture
ceramic villains
stand in the center of the image
credit card smiles
seek the light of the troubled road
wallets become empty
as they cling to the objects of the room

Love was just a word to deceive

camouflaged tears
reckon within the twitching of souls
charades is not
just a game
but the poison
they drank daily
They laid drunk
in the center of the bed
photographing plastic memories

Love was just a word that they wanted to believe

My books are available here.

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The dark side is gravitating
Scrambled thoughts of my reality
Playing with the toys in my closet
A world you could care less
Claiming to know me completely
You know what you want to know
My efforts to shed dead skin get unnoticed
I grin on the inside of these vandalized walls
We share a love that wears many disguises
that you refuse to see
You chose to see only a few layers of me
We display a miserable performance
Consistently staring into my silence
I can’t make you use your tongue
I will never be enough or give enough
You are as broken in pieces as me
You don’t know how to walk away
I dare you to walk away like the rest
The grin expects the unexpected
Can you spell the word depression
Waiting for God to take me away
You will understand me when I’m dead and gone
And give more of yourself to another man
The dark side is gravitating

My books are available here.

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I’m not worth a penny
You won’t see any shine on me
I’m only a dot on this earth
You won’t even notice I’m here
I’m not a decoration
You won’t see that I exist
I’m only made up of coal
You won’t even notice that I’m gone
I’m just a tragedy waiting to happen
You won’t even care that I spoke
I scream in silence
To recognize that I’m alone

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Walking Paradox

She will care for thirty seconds
and write a novella of accusations
She will pine for your sensitive hands
and cry a stream of tears from a distance
She will crave hours of chit chat
and stare at grim skeletons in silence
She will dance and twirl in the garden
and be embarrassed of her defects in loneliness

“In my view, I was raped by his alluring
vocabulary, molested by his wit and probed
by his twinkling generosity. He turned me into a walking paradox.”

And the mystery within her dwells
And the inconsistency smears her delusions
And the absurdity fills her weary lungs
And the enigma is like condensation
And the anomaly marches within her mind

She will walk with poise and diligence
and shout with obscenities doused in wildfire
She will cherish the remains and residue
and toss her pieces she loathes in the garbage
She will wrap herself up in sanitized anxiety
and chuck courage up against the wall
She will run with convictions in her fist
and ignore the principles that define her

And the secrecy within her is desolate
And the conundrum drips frustration
And the perplexity drains her focus
And the complications steer her vision
And the rattle stumbles within her mind

“In my perspective, I was poisoned by his compliments, fondled by his intellect and abused by his sincere confidence. He turned me into a walking paradox.”

My books are available here.

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She’s exhausted from spilling ink
She’s uncertain with her fingertips
She’s wobbly and shaking on the inside
She’s powerless from the past
She’s flimsy as a thin piece of paper
Sing me a song for wide hope
Sing me a song for stretched out faith

She’s frail within her bones
She’s isolated from the rattle
She’s licking her wounds quietly
She’s aching for companionship
She’s comfortless and abandoned
Sing me a song for freedom
Sing me a song without chains

She’s tangled up in desolation
She’s withdrawn and torn down
She’s a tragedy without a witness
She’s reclusive and friendless
She’s a sky without any clouds
Sing me a song for change
Sing me a song for healing

My books are available here.

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I use to languish in the polygon of my weeping mind

I thirst for the fragments of my anguish to mold my center

I use to sulk inside myself and drink the wine of selfishness

I sunk my teeth into the dejection

I use to dwell in the camouflage and sink in my words

I swam in the black river under the oppression

I use to neglect faith and drown in the empty tear ducts

I fell into the depths of silence

I use to grieve in the awaken sadness and never sleep

I felt the last breath deceive me

I use to shed my dead skin in the morning to erase the gloomy nights

I carried a chain of misery

I use to gasp at the hollowness and gazed at the autograph

I refused to stare at the nemesis

I saw the signature and found it revolting

A transformation within shouted

My books are available here.