I want to trace my family’s history,
go back + find out how we got here –
there was a suicide in the ‘70s, a wound
we carry but do not discuss –
secrets hide in the shadows
+ who knows how they affect us.
Continue readingdark
Fallen Angels (a poem)
Satan rebels and fallen angels follow him
to the underworld – wings clipped, eyes ablaze
with red like the demons they are.
Stand atop this holy hillside and survey the city –
if you are the Messiah, then prove it.
Continue readingThe Witch Queen (a poem)
The Witch Queen nurses you to health and assures you
she means no harm – the people fear her because she’s
ageless and has wandered these woods for centuries,
speaking with wild animals and traversing the dark
landscape, looking for lost travelers.
She tends to their wounds, offers medicine in her hut,
then devours them in sexual ecstasy like they’ve
never experienced before. They all leave feeling better –
the Witch Queen is your friend, not your enemy.
(Photo by Miriam Espacio on Unsplash)
Note: This poem was inspired by a character in Old Gods of Appalachia, a horror anthology podcast that I’m currently obsessed with.
Carnival Games (a poem)
It’s 6:48 am and I am walking onto a bus
We are no longer able to be alone
The government has deemed we must stay together
This is my first day on the bus – I thought I would be on it longer
My start time is at 11:42 am
As I am ushered off the bus after twenty-five minutes
I am given directions on my phone and told to stay with the group
I must plan my escape, I must be alone
