By Petty Dreadful Bitter leaf brews noxious as bubbling rust of an aged screw rests submerged under black moon water knocking gently in the murk against jagged quartz. Hateful utterings form mantras at the darkest early hours by the dim light of a red candle that drips it's wax beside a spotted trail of blood. Intentions of ruin bringing forth an era of misfortune from a vengeful grinding of cinnamon and cayenne that promise no flavour, only spite. Black salt, belladonna, pis

By Millie Graham And hellfire shall rain down upon the land And the people shall burn in fearful anguish. Satan shall rule the souls And rip from them all purity Till all remains the writhing husk Of those who thought to be clean. In the filth of their intention they squirm, Vainly hoping to free from the sulphurous clutches Of the dark prince almighty And the carnal temptations that prevail. Suckle at his breast And taste the malicious ecstasy of evil As it fills your veins

By Alicia Kimberly How old were we—eleven,  twelve, thirteen? Just two  children kissing behind  my garage, between  the bee-infested pear tree  and the conifer the owl  lived in, the grass covered in May  morning frost and littered  with rabbit ears, limbs, and smells   of wild things, rain,  and you, pink-cheeked little boy.    Our eyes open, wide-green,  your white-gold curls dripped  Freckles on my nose  like a colander of cellentani  and your mouth was full of America -c