• guest writers

    A reincarnation

      It didn’t burn like my ambitions did, it didn’t break the way ideals always do, just vanished, like an angel in the clouds, with wings made of white nothingness and the feather it dropped is probably fantasy as on…

  • guest writers,  submissions,  writers

    Live to die or die to live?

      Rolling the skin deeply In the waters, rusting my bones cold moisture seeps the pores hits spine, undercurrents discharged pupil widens, nostrils expand I breathe in the black smoke hair rise stiffens the nerves muscles inflamed; cortisol infused bloodstream…

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