Words stitched from sleepless nights, cigarette burns, motel ghosts, and the sound of breaking things.
CW. Hobbs writes poetry for the forgotten, the furious, and the people learning how to survive their own reflection. His work drifts between neon-lit despair and violent honesty — blending raw emotion, horror imagery, addiction, memory, grief, and rebellion into something both ugly and beautiful.
This is poetry with blood under its fingernails.