Poetry from the Third Rail

Not the kind of poetry that asks for permission.
These are live wires—sliced from the third rail of experience and still humming.
Some arrive whispering. Some arrive swinging.
But all of them carry the same charge: truth, unsanitized.

Here, you’ll find poems that don’t try to be nice.
They try to be real.
They might sting. They might soothe.
They might open something you forgot was locked.

Come closer. But mind the voltage.

A Manifesto for Becoming

You were never meant to be a spectator.
This is a call to remember who you are—before fear, before silence, before the script.
Come as you are.
Leave as who you might become.

Here Lies Society

Society didn’t fall. It faded. This is the eulogy no one thought to write—until now.