HeyJared@NikkisshoreScribbles
A kaleidoscope of perspectives — personal essays, poetry, culture, politics, and advocacy for what matters most. I write where the fragments collide and form something new. I ramble and circle it's my process so that I can bring the truth as I see it.
- Indexed issues, last 90 days
- 13
- Latest publication
- Sep 27, 2026
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- Earliest in this view
- Sep 8, 2026
Latest issues
Fault Lines in Gold (opens the original)
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She walks with her back turned to gold,a spine of light cracking through ash-colored silk,half woman,half wound,her hair unraveling into windthat isn’t there.I loved her the way water loves a reflection:desperately,dishonestly,never once touchingwhat I claimed to hold.The city behind heris smoke pretending to be stone.The lake beneath heris a mirror that lies,doubles her,drowns her,keeps her.Gold seams run down herlike a fault line,like something brokenthat decided to shine anyway.<p
Arctic Avenue (opens the original)
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At night, headlights collect along the curb,caught behind one another, waiting for a turn that never arrives.My neighbors argue through the walls until the words wear out.Then the house settles into itself.The silence afterward feels familiar,like a room that's been sitting in the dark long before I walked into it.The floor still carries the crack from the day everything changed.
Wicked Devotion: (opens the original)
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A specific kind of thrill lives in the shadows of intimacy. It is the "wicked and fun" part of devotion—the delicious, agonizing tension of the journey Where power and surrender become a practiced dance.✍︎I: Wicked Games A game of shadows, dark and deep,Where secrets are the things we keep.A whispered breath, a slow retreat,The wicked thrill of hide-and-seek.You count to ten, a wicked smile,Knowing that it's been a while.The darkness wraps us like a shroud,While you seek me in the crowd.✍︎
Stay (opens the original)
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---i waited.you came.---your footsteps on the stairs—i counted them.seven.always seven.as if the eighthwould break the spell.---you undressed me with your eyesbefore your handsever found the zipper.i let you.god, i let you.---the scar on your shoulder.i trace it.you flinch.i trace it again.slower.you close your eyes.now you knowwhat i have always known—being seenis the most terrifyingkind of naked.---you say my namelike i
The Hollow of My Dreams (opens the original)
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In the hollow of my dreams, the landscape split in two.On one side, a realm of gnashing shadow. On the other, a blinding glimpse of you.The contrast between darkness and light seemed to mirror something unsettled within me. I moved through the shifting terrain of my subconscious, each step carrying the unease of something I could feel but could not yet name. Fear lived at the edges of my mind, primal and persistent, clawing its way closer with every step.Then I saw them.A man wrought with unspok
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