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Mason Carter Books

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“You were a language I learned by ear, syllables pressed into the curve of my neck, intonations traced along my spine. But love, I have forgotten how to conjugate us— the past imperfect, the future conditional, sentences unraveling into tenses that no longer hold.”

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Book:Saltwater & Smoke: Poems of Almosts, Goodbyes, and What We Leave Behind
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“Then, almost as if on its own, a single tear slipped down his cheek. He wiped it away roughly, shaking his head like he could shake away everything that had just happened. With a sigh, he flicked his cigarette away, pulled another from his pocket, and lit it with shaky fingers. Then he lay down on the cold rooftop floor, staring up at the sky. The stars were distant, indifferent. They had seen this story a million times before. And they knew how it always ended.”

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Book:A Philosophy of Scars: A Story of Broken Hearts and Overthinking Minds
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“Jullian crossed his arms, almost defensively, but there was no heat behind it. “Animals have morality? That still sounds… primitive. Like pack survival instinct. What does that have to do with our laws? With people who give up their lives for strangers? That’s not instinct. That’s… irrational. It’s like a failure in the cost-benefit logic.” Mira bent down and plucked a weed growing through the cracked cement, fingers patient. “That’s where something beautiful begins. Reason refines instinct. It doesn't erase it. When we act against our social nature, our mind remembers what our body once knew. A pull toward others. An ache when we ignore it.”

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Book:Her Name is Anarchy: a novella
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“Emma swallowed hard. A lump formed in her throat, but she forced herself to breathe. “Why do you do that?” Mark tilted his head. “Do what?” Emma stepped closer, her voice trembling just slightly. “Push people away before they can leave.” Mark smirked again, but this time, it barely reached his eyes. “Because they always leave.”

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Book:A Philosophy of Scars: A Story of Broken Hearts and Overthinking Minds
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“He walked into the spotlight. The crowd cheered. He waited. And then, with no warning, he let out a single, clear laugh. It came out of him like a floodgate bursting. High-pitched, joyous, real. He laughed until his face crumpled, until his knees gave way, until he collapsed to the floor. They thought it was the act. They laughed harder. Some stood. Some applauded. A child shouted, “Do it again!” But Bobo lay still. His rubber nose squeaked against the stage floor. His heart didn’t. The laughter swelled like an ocean, unknowing, unrelenting. The curtain dropped. Behind it, a small notebook fell from his jacket. It opened to a single scribbled line: “The joke was me.”

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Book:Entropy in Love and Other Errors: Absurdist Short Stories about Meaning, Glitches, and Goodbyes
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“It should weigh nothing. Just wood and air, a shape meant for sitting, a space meant for filling. But somehow, it carries more than I do. This chair— your chair— still leans slightly to the left, still remembers the way you sat, one leg tucked under, hands resting lightly on the arms, as if you were always about to leave but never quite did.”

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Book:Saltwater & Smoke: Poems of Almosts, Goodbyes, and What We Leave Behind
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“I have mastered the art of vanishing without ever leaving the room. I sit at tables where no one saves me a seat, where voices rise and fall like tides, but never crash against my shore. I nod, I smile, I speak— but my words evaporate midair, unanswered, unheard, like a prayer swallowed by an empty church.”

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Book:Saltwater & Smoke: Poems of Almosts, Goodbyes, and What We Leave Behind
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“The walls still hold your voice, thin as dust, settled into the cracks, soft enough that if I press my ear close, I swear I hear you breathing. The air is thick with almost-words, syllables that never found a home, sentences that collapsed before they reached my mouth.”

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Book:Saltwater & Smoke: Poems of Almosts, Goodbyes, and What We Leave Behind
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“Anger, surprisingly, often follows social hierarchies. Many people easily express anger toward those who are less powerful—a waiter, a child, a junior employee—but suppress it when mistreated by someone more powerful, such as a boss, police officer, or a government body.”

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Book:Critical Thinking Unchained: From Formal Logic to Dialectics of Emancipation
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“Anger is a natural emotion. It arises when we perceive something unjust, unfair, or threatening. There is nothing inherently wrong in feeling angry. Emotions are part of being human. The real problem arises when we express anger impulsively—especially when it targets another person.”

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Book:Critical Thinking Unchained: From Formal Logic to Dialectics of Emancipation
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“Her breath, a perfume laced with midnight’s bloom, Her skin, a canvas brushed with lunar gloom. She lies, a mountain range of flesh and might, And I, a pilgrim, kneel to kiss her light. Her neck, a column where the ancients wrote, I trace with tongue, each vein, each whispered note.”

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Book:Gothic Poems to Love & Liberty: A Collection of Poems on Myths & Broken Hearts
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