By Birdbones Time picks its teeth With the bones of Human endeavor Devoid of form Streaming boundless Mercurial in appetite Its shadow inescapable Expiring arbitrarily No encores chambered A ruse in measure As no more exists Than ever has or will Reliant on its passage We live, we love We hurt, we heal Its taste for irony however Insidiously Pierces hapless souls Moments spent living Moments spent dying Cruelly interchangeable Infinitely entertained by The zero sum Of our exi

By Brian Cameron I wrote Do no harm and split the nib. Ink climbed my wrist— slow, deliberate— as if it had been waiting. The page swallowed what it could. The rest kept moving. I pressed my hand there, trying to quiet the noise. It didn’t stop. I meant to save someone. Instead, I watched their story dry on my skin. When I washed, it bloomed again— dark, ferrous, faithful. I said I understood hunger. I lied. It burned the same going down, and I kept drinking. Silence came in

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