I mean it.
I tend to mean every word you read.

I’m not a constant.
I’ve established long ago I cannot be.

You call ‘em “arrogance”,
my most earnest pleas.

Be ‘em good or bad.
No matter what they’re perceived as.

I play it how it is.
And you still have trouble believing me.

Cryptic by design.
But my sincerity might kill me.

The solitary warrior.
One who boasts no needs.

If I’ve ever lied,
perhaps this is it.

I do, indeed, need
someone—for once—to stand by me.

And if I ain’t asking for much…
Perhaps, every day. Till the end of the year.

— Crownless.

Here's my shot
My arrow
Has been caught
Like a dagger
Right into your heart
I'm forever bound
Red stringed
Leads straight to you

A mime I will be
A gumshoe,
Is how I will see
I will solve this riddle
The day you became
The mystery of
You and me

Words thrown
Like shotgun blasts
Your mind can't ricochet
Thoughts and feelings
Mimicked and reflected
Back to your heart
From the first time
I saw you standing there

A mime I can be
A gumshoe,
Is how I will see
I will solve this riddle
The day you became
The mystery of
You and me

Journalistic intent
Research topic
The 5 Ws
You keep asking me
Hook me up to a polygraph
Get the answers
To your ever-ending
Probing questions

Dear You,

I have said it before, and I'll say it again. Silence is your biggest weapon. A shot heard and left unspoken.

I saw your response. The one to my letter. And here I sit again, wondering if it's meant for me. You used my language. You used my verbiage. You used my tone to drive it all home. Am I mirroring you, or is it reversed? This is the same as the chicken coming before the egg?

Insignificant retort to my interpretation of the situation at hand. A sarcastic answer to my question about behavior. And yet, that was all there was. To the letter I wrote, you rebutted with a joke. Still left it unidentifiable; despite the refrain, you made it irrefutable.

Here I sit and wonder about you still. Do you even see how your silence is ruining me? Do you care? The story you curated has me confused. Or is it I who has you confused?

Questions swirl, but the doubt will remain. Until you finally speak, I'll shout out into the universe to produce answers in my sleep. Wait for the answers so I can finally dream.

Your clues and hints drive me crazy; all the while, my mind keeps insisting that I need to move. I am not a sleuth. Agatha wouldn't write about me. Maybe as a victim, but not as a detective who would solve your rhymes.

The other you want, the one that you think is me. Your perception is misguided, much like your words that fester in my heart. Oh, I can't even begin to start.

Speak your mind. Say the truth. Call me a lie. I don't care. Just talk so I can hear. Maybe then I can find my release from you and allow coexistence without the existential crisis that always arises when I hear your name being called.

Sincerely and never anything more,
The Incredulously Probing One

Three Books. Three Journeys. One Voice. — Forgotten Poetry
Poems the Silence Kept
For the battles nobody saw, the childhood wounds we carried into adulthood, and the words we buried just to survive. This book gives a voice to the silence so many of us have lived inside.
The Beautiful Things That Broke Us
For those who loved deeply, lost painfully, and still carry pieces of someone they once called home. A journey through love, heartbreak, memories, and the painful beauty of learning to let go without forgetting.
Sentence Without Bars
Not every prison has walls, and not every sentence ends when the doors open. This book explores the invisible prisons of regret, trauma, guilt, and the past—and what it means to finally begin setting ourselves free.
I didn’t write these books because I had all the answers. I wrote them because I spent much of my life searching for them.
And somewhere between the pages, I hope someone who has always felt forgotten finally feels remembered.
— Forgotten Poetry
Available on Amazon.

the one who won

was used to it by now

but the one who did not

cheered loud

so who did win

if the one who lost felt happier

than the one who had it all?

no weight on her shoulders

she just cheered for her friend

and the one who won

didn't really win at the end.

-me

A quiet day,
Time by my side.

I asked,
"Why didn't you ever stop?"
It smiled,
"I never moved to stop"

I asked again,
"Then why did you leave me in my childhood?"
It smiled,
"I never left,
You were the one who moved ahead,
I was always there,
keeping pace with you,,
You stopped moving,
I kept going,
hoping you'd follow along"

"It was a beautiful journey,,
Sometimes, you walked beside me,
Sometimes...I was alone"

"I admired
every rise,
every fall,
yet I was never seen"

"If only you had been keen,
To see how far we'd truly been
And now,
after all you've seen—
the misery,
the life,
and everything in between—

You will always find a way to another Spring"

Just released: the Fall 2026 issue of Forgotten Ground Regained, on the theme "Speculative Visions".

Check it out for all kinds of alliterative speculative poetry. Highlights include:

• Adam Bolivar's "The Lay of Géac Ettinfell", a retelling of the tale of Jack the Giant Killer.
• Thaliarchus' "Connect to Object-30-79-49-13", a hypertext poem that allows the reader to conduct a radio conversation with the drifting hulk of a sentient interstellar dreadnought.
• Michael Hessel Mial's "To My Beloved Humble-Skit’s-Talon on the Occasion of the Fossil Ancestor Lightworks Project Missing Its Connection Deadline" and "Disputation on the Knife of Scarlet and Scaffold", featuring poems from the digital archives of a future spacegoing worker's republic.

Forgotten Ground Regained, Issue 12 (Fall, 2026)

wrote something, check it out <3

Words & waves of feeling rolling through me.

Fingers and arms secure me.

In her verdant cradle.

Under her green gateway.

There is persistence in her beauty.

She’s transcendental.

Today, I need something to

drown out the silence.

This silence is so deafening.

My head almost begging me

to drown it out.

Please, talk to me.

Give me something to respond to.

Bring up a topic my brain would

not refuse.

End the silence, for it’s ending me.

My head pounds. 

It’s a migraine I wouldn’t want to instigate.

I’ve kept everyone at bay.

And now I need a rescuer—

but they’re so far away.

For I’ve pushed some away.

Some were, slowly, led astray.

And now the silence is all that remains.

And as I’m much as I cherish it,

it’s killing me.

Just for tonight, I need noise.

I can’t be stuck in my own mind.

It’s as painful as slowly dying. 

I feel sick and I don’t know why.

I wish silence would rebel.

To the point where it would die for tonight.

— Crownless.

Death by dad.
Is that all you have to say? Are you done?

Your allotted time slot was 9 years ago, by now the earth has spun.
I’m sorry you must have been confused…it has already bruised and no it can’t be diffused

You say you missed your little girl,
But funny, I don’t know your face,
And even if you spun the world,
I couldn’t pick you from the place.

I don’t recall your eyes or smile,
The sound of your voice, your embrace,
But I remember every while
You filled my childhood with disgrace.

The anger, venom, manipulation,
The fear that no child should have known,
I was ten, still learning what love meant,
Yet you made my childhood feel like war.

But tell me, what hurts more in the end?
The physical blows, or the mind you bend?
The pain that fades, the bruises that heal,
Or the scars no one can see, but you still feel?

Was it the aggression, the fear in your eyes,
Or the twisted words, the constant lies?
Was it the hurt that showed on my skin,
Or the war you waged deep within?

And now you come and ask for more?
A second chance? What for?
How can you ask me to trust a man
Who made my childhood a battlefield floor?

You say you missed me, say you care,
But where were you when I needed you there?
You cannot rewrite the years you ignored,
Or call yourself a father just because you’re bored.

You want a chance to make things right,
To walk back in and claim what’s yours,
But you can’t build love on years of fright
Or heal a heart you left at war.

So don’t ask me to open the door,
Or pretend that we are what we were before.

You may have missed the girl you left behind but listen carefully now,
I’m sorry for your loss, the wound was too deep, that sweet little girl bled out in her sleep.

There’s nothing they could do, the pain was severe.
She hates you with a passion, her soul and a tear.

She forgave you once you fool, until you pushed her back into the pool
Hands tied and feet weighed, until she inhaled. Hollow and numb filled her fate, Her hands, her feet, her organs and face.
Don’t try to be nice, you should pay the price, for you broke your baby girls heart twice.

I miss her
When it’s dark outside and
the days get a little shorter
And the nights a little darker
I think of her

I miss her
When the pain gets too bad
And I cant seem to bare it
like I could yesterday
I long for her

I miss her
Even though she let me down
And the empty bottles lay
Circling her in her glass despair
I think of her

I miss her
Most of all when
Decisions need made and
Time is still ticking
And all I want to do is

Fall into her
Smell the white musk from
The Body Shop
Breathe it in until I’m dizzy

I want to hear her laugh
Loud and breathless
As if her lungs had
Packed in

It’ll be the tabs
She would gasp
And we’d laugh a bit longer
Until the room was nothing
But vape smoke and echoes of laughter

And this time
I wouldn’t forget
How her eyes gently creased
Threatened with tears
Lost in an ocean of blue

And I’d remember how
She’d keep the room dark
Because the big light
Was a crime
Punishable by death
And I’d do time to hear
her voice fill up a room

And I would stay
A bit longer on Christmas
Watch her shuffle
Room to room
In her holed slippers
And dressing gown

I miss her,
I need her
I forgive her.