A Writer’s Corner

No Rest in the Dark

A grief haibun about the nights when sleep stops feeling safe.

When dreams no longer bring comfort.

When memory waits in the dark.

When loss follows you into the one place you used to go to rest.

This piece explores insomnia, mourning, loneliness, and the haunting way grief can turn sleep into another room full of absence.

Read No Rest in the Dark now on Ink & Silence:

“I want sleep to be gentle again.

I want dreams that do not arrive dressed as warnings.”

New Poem: “The Part of Me With Teeth”

Some wounds do not become sadness first.

Some become teeth.

For a long time, I thought strength meant burying my anger so deeply that no one could ever see it. Folding it into routine. Swallowing it with coffee. Calling it patience. Calling it maturity. Calling it peace.

But buried things do not disappear.

They learn how to survive underground.

The Part of Me With Teeth is a poem about rage, restraint, grief, boundaries, self-preservation, and the complicated work of learning how to listen to anger without letting it become your master.

It is about the version of ourselves that grows sharp after years of being made small.

It is about discovering that the thing beneath the floorboards may not be a monster at all.

Only a wound that finally learned how to defend itself.

🖤

“I want to be whole like a house with every room unlocked, but every room named.

Here is the grief.

Here is the tenderness.

Here is the fear.

Here is the fury.

Here is the part of me with teeth.”

Read the poem now!

A prose poem about the aftermath of losing someone you love — when grief does not come in order, when sadness, anger, guilt, numbness, and loneliness arrive all at once, and even the smallest parts of the day feel impossible.

This piece is for the kind of mourning that has no clear beginning.

The kind that makes the world feel unfamiliar.

The kind no one truly understands unless they have lived inside it.

Not a poem about moving on.

Not a poem about being strong.

A poem about surviving the first breath.

The next hour.

The unbearable day.

Read Where Do I Begin With Gone? now on Ink & Silence:

“Grief does not line up politely.

It does not wait its turn.

It floods the room.”

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A prose poem about leaving a haunted past behind — and the quiet fear that freedom may ask you to abandon not only a place, but the version of yourself who survived it.

This piece is for anyone who has ever had to walk away while still wanting the past to remember them honestly.

Not as a tragedy.

Not as a lesson.

Not as a ghost.

But as someone who was here.

Someone who loved.

Someone who was wounded and still reached for the light.

Read Do Not Let Me Become Weather now on Ink & Silence:

“I do not want to be trapped by what happened.

But I do not want to be erased by surviving it.”

A haunting prose poem about grief, exile, memory, survival, and the fragile search for home after loss changes everything.

For the ones who have ever felt displaced inside their own life.

For the ones who kept carrying salt in the quiet places.

For the ones who survived the leaving, even when there was no door.

This piece moves through water, memory, lost identity, and the slow, difficult return to the self — not as someone untouched, but as someone still here.

“It does not return you whole.

It teaches you how to stand among your missing pieces

without mistaking yourself for emptiness.”

Read A Country Made of Water now on Ink & Silence:

The Road Beneath the Candles

A love letter to the artists, storytellers, musicians, performers, and keepers of wonder who arrive with lanterns in their throats and whole constellations hidden in their sleeves.

This piece is for the ones who understand that the theatre of wonder is temporary.

The candles will go out.

The instruments will be packed away.

The road will call again.

But for one shining moment, strangers gather beneath the same spell.

And sometimes, that is enough to take you home.

Read it now on Ink & Silence.

“Bless the storytellers

who make homes out of air.

Bless the musicians

who turn loneliness into light.

Bless the performers

who disappear into masks

so we may recognize ourselves.”

there are certain kinds of grief that do not end.

they simply continue changing shape inside you.

sometimes as silence.

sometimes as memory.

sometimes as the strange feeling that part of your life never fully moved forward after the loss.

Not All Roads Return the Traveler is a free verse poem about mourning, emotional exhaustion, identity after loss, and the long psychological roads people travel while trying to find a way back to themselves.

not a poem about healing.

a poem about movement through darkness —

and the realization that not every path leads home.

for readers drawn to atmospheric poetry, existential writing, psychological themes, and emotionally immersive literature.

read here:

There is a particular kind of grief that makes the world feel unbearably symbolic.

every coincidence begins resembling a message.

every silence starts sounding intentional.

you begin searching for traces of the dead in ordinary things:

rain against windows,

flickering lamps,

empty church pews,

dreams that feel almost real enough to stay inside.

Love Continues Searching Anyway is a haunting prose poem about spiritual longing, doubt, mourning, and the emotional aftermath of losing a mother.

it lives in the fragile space between wanting to believe there is something beyond death… and fearing that belief itself may only be a beautiful invention created to survive unbearable loss.

an atmospheric piece about grief, faith, uncertainty, and the terrifying loneliness of never fully knowing what waits beyond us.

read here:

It has been some time since the last entry here. Far longer than I originally intended. Part of that silence came from life itself — the kind that quietly rearranges your attention whether you are prepared for it or not. The other part came from dedicating myself almost entirely to the completion and release of my short novel on Amazon Kindle, a project that demanded more from me creatively…

Some stories begin with a death.

Others begin with a man refusing to stay buried.

My first novella, Crimson Continuance, is officially live on Amazon Kindle.

Set in the shadowed elegance of Montréal, this gothic organized-crime novella follows Matteo Santoro — a condemned crime boss whose final hours become the beginning of something ancient, powerful, and terrifying.

This is a story of blood, legacy, control, and rebirth.

A dying empire.

An ancient hunger.

A city waiting to be claimed.

Not every empire is built in daylight.

Available now on Amazon Kindle:

9 Days Later The letter had begun to smell. Not rot—paper doesn’t rot like that—but something human. Oil from hands. Heat. A faint metallic tang Grayson couldn’t unthink once he noticed it. He kept it sealed now, locked in evidence, but the impression lingered, like a phantom scent in a room long after someone has left. Nine days since the warning. Nine days since the city had been…

Tock…..,

✨ NEW STORY DROP ✨

At the dawn of the Zenith Age, the Sol Dominion does not crown heroes—it forges weapons.

The Gift of Dominion follows the moment Grand Marshal Selene Kael is gifted an Erebus-class dreadnought, an act that marks the Dominion’s ideological shift toward ruthless expansion and absolute control. As Kael claims her flagship, she begins forging an elite interceptor squadron through fear, competition, and uncompromising discipline.

This is not a story about hope.

It is a story about power becoming policy.

Read the story now at:

Some photographs don’t stay buried.

Some faces don’t stay in the background.

And sometimes… whatever’s watching finally steps close enough to touch.

Read it today!

New Story Drop Friday

Some photos don’t stay lost.

Some faces don’t stay strangers.

And sometimes… the background moves closer than you think.

“The Lost Photo” drops Friday at theinkandsilence.wordpress.com

The Wilted Roses -Now Live

It’s here.

A vampire florist keeping his shop open at 3 a.m.

A lonely cellist who slips inside out of the rain—

not looking for flowers,

just wanting, for once in her life,

to be chosen instead of almost chosen.

Two strangers meeting under neon shadows,

drawn toward each other by something delicate, dangerous,

and already beginning to bloom.

“The Wilted Roses” is now live on Ink & Silence.

A dark, intimate gothic romance about hunger, heartbreak,

and the quiet bravery it takes to ask for love.

Read it now.

Let it bruise.

Let it bloom.

🚨New Story Drop Friday!

Something fragile is breaking this Friday…

A vampire who keeps his flower shop open at 3 a.m.

A cellist who brings in a bouquet already dying.

Two lonely people meeting under rain-washed streetlights—

and a story where hunger feels a lot like heartbreak.

The Wilted Roses — dropping Friday on Ink & Silence.

Dark romance.

Urban midnight.

A love story that tastes like longing.

Stay tuned and check out other stories here: