We are lovely freaks,
Arriving on storm-chasing echoes,
Myopic, the lament creaks,
In corridors of silhouetted hellos.

Can you hear it?
Silence in heart's moonlit meek?
Snake oil in mystical ingots,
Of sand when I had you weak.

33 92

"Interior clean, smiles cunning, windows draped with glittering streamers. Our delightful guild of supervillains is afoot! Get that court jester into his promposal suit! He shall ride a... 1/3

5 23

No matter the rain or bluster in clouds, he'd look up and see blue. Bristol boards would blossom with punched holes to create dappled light indoors and paper flowers were folded over candid conversation. Kind memories.

9 60

Headstones & flowers are the salt & pepper of graves, loved ones' deaths in queued public markings. It's common for strangers to hesitate when walking those grounds. Especially since Uncle Matthew's ghost is always shrieking until his throat's sore.

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We make lovely things an allusion to someplace great only met after death. It's in first bites of favourite foods & how flavours linger different on every part of one's tongue, how clouds yawn to clear thoughts anathema.

4 37

The groves used to hold a sweet nectar breeze that followed the most derelict hearts home. It'd buckle a room's acerbic air, urging masks to fall & lungs to drink—but demons hold more power than angels now.

7 44

I heard a sapid voice on the breeze, maternal and full as the peonies on Grandma's kitchen table. I must've smiled because his eyes swelled with a bitterness that spread over his face like a virus—unready for a mother's wrath.

9 51

Ice flooded my skin when I saw legs kicking from an industrial box, muffled screams plaguing my ears as memories of yesteryear's attack thickened the air. I'd fallen stuck in front of movers, too.

7 64

- Hello
- Spicy
- Together
- Charm
[humor] - see


[show don’t tell] - Nostalgia
- One
- Art
- Telegraph

23 38

Teary eyed and rose red, he managed a smile bordering am-I-going-to-die face. "It feels like a food baby demon kicking my insides," he said, looking over my shoulder at Clara. "What's her agenda? Killing us?"

2 35

Our vim kept us awake until the late morning. We'd nearly given up after her mom's third attempt with bedtime stories but it was as though our blood bubbled into sentience when mean shadows dipped toward the beds.

6 40

She would forfeit hope
for her wanderlust
to feel each delicious high

Chancing peril if she must
rescuing herself by and by

Bound to no one’s emotional trust
with her wild nature she will comply








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7 28

I couldn't read the looks he gave himself in mirrors but there was an insurmountable burn in his cheeks when his eyes met Logan's. Like a connection split. Then I discovered he'd taken the toilet paper from his stall.

7 55

subtle sighs
scents
surrounded
by a brush of a touch
the spirit
whispers
tradition brings her here
now she must find her way
on the journey back home





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5 14

We write with our souls
Pens dipped in black inkwell hearts
Poet coterie






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4 8

Our bones may be scarred and dying pieces of us may be scattered across the skies, but I know we've penetrated each other's thoughts in such a way that the earth will remain stained with light's blood below the murderous charcoal clouds.

8 53

Stillborn letters
stumble along
an unfair path
Crystallizing darkness
permitting it to breathe
in the raven twists
of dusk
The eye of shadow
Distinct
with its baleful glare
Affixed
upon my soul.





11 48

He didn’t look beneath the salient characteristics of my magic.
He judged me unworthy to be his apprentice.
“Simple spells from a simple witch,” he said.
He is now the newest addition to my collection.



8 8