All the fucks you gave

they say you are what you eat


bedridden nightmares

monsters in the closet

secrets that cling to your chest

somehow become

words that spill on dirty napkins

takes more than a sewing kit

to heal a fresh wound

mothballs hidden away

as a deterrent in your mind

because somethings are too hard

to swallow

we’ve all made mistakes

again and again

you stand up

brush the debris off

and keep going

nobody gets a prize

if they’re put on repeat







ties keep getting crossed

but they need to be severed

new days come

night steals them for its own

all the fucks you gave

won’t be forgotten

but always come back

to haunt you

new pursuits kept tucked away

in your back pocket as a reminder

why you fell in the first place

reflection tactics run wild

so they don’t know

what’s beyond the wall

but some do understand

that nothing can save

a rotting garden

(C) S. Lynette, 2023

Smashing Hearts

spilled coffee

shapes the day

when your

surroundings are

made of noise

wanting to sit

this one out

to hide the

cuts and bruises

that dig deep

it’s ok to be empty

crushing the wild

with bitter tongue tied


makes you more human

from the inside

mixed messages

shot down in

crossfire extensions

just to bend to break

because you’re seen

wearing the crazy

on the scene

smashing hearts

to run the line that’s familiar

even if it’s not the right

place to catch your breath

stranded between

those who need to be saved

and the heart you keep


bridges were built to last

for only a little while

because sometimes

they need to feel the sting

so you can save yourself

from deep center

purge the days that seems to

cling onto dead planets rising

and look what’s in front of you

there’s plenty of space

to unravel new shapes

(C) S. Lynette, 2023

Something That Never Was

turning up the volume

to something that should

already be there

marked by a number

that shouldn’t hold you so tightly

by the throat

by love affair convictions

flowers full of poisoned pollen

all the “i’m sorry’s”

all the “i’ll do better until tomorrow’s”

hallmark cards telling bedded lies

and giving off sharp fingered gestures

no one cares about

scapegoat advances

one-way avenues

that part away from the center

locked cannon devices on standby

all the “forgive me’s”

all the “i didn’t mean it’s”

being shoved under the rug

hoping no ripples form

fuck your red paper hearts

left on my skin

you, choking on

your own caramelized

twisted truths

lips salty

setting traps to catch

white chocolate

virgin suicide girls

just so you can tell

them how much to bleed

in your burning bed

full of spit and fabricated storylines

all will eventually fade

in the background

soaking up anything left to steal

(C) S. Lynette, 2023

Stuff and Things

Stuff and Things

tattered pages

in this old room

of memories

written out on

pages you will

never read

on a subway car

going home

thoughts come and go

like faded lipstick stains

though things been

playing in the back of heads

it’s been a stretched path

with raw corners

and dead ends

meet again

with things that are

long gone past

catching time

through the hourglass

the wrong hours

the wrong minutes

the wrong places

missed by seconds

and all that’s

in my head is

why am i here

to begin with

you ask what’s

on my mind

and all i can say

is stuff and things

(C) S. Lynette, 2023

Iridescent Madness (lady on a wire#10)

(Lady on a Wire and Mike Zone collaboration)

the mind is a weird mechanism
moving into exile
anytime on purpose

a reservoir of secrets
burning alive with
subliminal messages
of rebound history lessons

shaped with shiny flakes of spiderwebs
getting thrown in the wind
but never finds a place to stick
there are no happy accidents
and this world is turning to shit
feeling exposed with dark matter
bubbling up from the center

it’s part of the universe
made from radioactive waste
of distant suns
where orchestrated desires
will only last for so long

space diamond dust
will pepper the fire
with its nuclear waste

no one’s safe from
marching ghosts
raking over coals
from one dimensional space

random thoughts
raw desires
whirlwinds of counterfeit

all tucked away in the
asylum of locked doors
where hollowed out metaphors
walk alone

fuck love
i said fuck love

it’s all going to shit anyway
and all that’s left is our dead eyes
trying to save us all

(C) S. Lynette, 2023 (from Razorville)

Deadtown (lady on a wire#5)

(Lady on a Wire and Mike Zone collaboration)

red death illusions
marking territories
with no vacancy signs
rolling up locked and loaded
giving off pistol whipped

i’m out for the bounty
in this dead town
holding hands with
black velvet shadows
ready for all this
cheap motel dinner theater

nothing is holy in this vortex
filled with verbs and nouns
hung together suffocating
into nothingness

tumbleweed gestures
lost in the language
of musty old gas stations
ponying up to glory holes
just to feel mildly amused

casting silhouettes at high noon
from words too wild to tame
these words roll them out
on the butcher block
cutting them into magical

the west will never fall
because desire and prophecy
are one in the same
as you fill up on wandering space
they’ll both be catcalling your name

the time has come
fondle the forefront
and click your heels
because there is
no place like home

(C) S. Lynette, 2023 (from Razorville)