My Witch Friend-ohellino


She was into the sort of witchcraft
That involved books
And incense
And I kind of liked that
Sitting there in all that nonsense
Not fucked up
Slitting wrists and saying:  Fuck why do I exist?
She was into the sort of astronomy
Known as astrology
“You had me at dog star” I said
And she scrunched up her entire face
And pulled out her tarot cards
To read the universe
“Why would you read the universe?” I asked
“What do you read?” she said rubbing a crystal
“Books” I said
And she scoffed

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Drawing Down the Moon-Christine Ray/Brave and Reckless

Brave and Reckless

Bare alabaster arms raised to the heavens

I sing the ancient songs to the endless night

I draw down the moon from the velvet

Cradle her in my arms like a babe

Bathe in her icy luminance

Draw it deep into my body

Until my skin is translucent

Cool to the touch

I am filled with the light

Of a thousand stars

And the wolves howl

To the empty sky

You contain the fire of the sun

Golden and crimson

It slips through your veins

Ripples beneath your skin

Dances in your eyes

Amber that holds my image fixed

We are holy, consecrated

Equals worthy of each other

Performing an ancient rite

That cleanses the earth

And ignites the night

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Skin-OldePunk/RamJet Poetry

RamJet Poetry


Throwing rock


midnight shine

gleaming on the bone

A little shudder

a small whimper

carnivore smiles atone

cut wrist feeds psychotic skin

my lover is my greatest sin

I own the underside

put you on my back

for another ride

melting faces fear for me

guarding the treasured

awaiting your high tide

want you just to come and see

you can brutalize my make-believe

I need to cauterizemy love

for you, stitch the wounds

left in your wake

my soul is on life support

how much more can it


waiting forever to begin

the stories

on your skin

I just do not know what I’m in

caught with the legends under your skin

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Gathering Dust – S.L. Heaton/The Lithium Chronicles

S.L. Heaton/The Lithium Chronicles

The Lithium Chronicles

I wore it for you every day for eight years…strong and proud…hoping you would see…but you never did and made me feel as if I wasn’t worthy. So my heart just sat there on my sleeve gathering dust and my knees became bloodied and bruised from crawling after you…begging…a futile attempt to acquire what I so desperately needed. Epiphanies are strange…like sour candies…bitter at the onset and sweet in the center and it took eight more years to hit that sweet spot…in the meantime I took that old dusty heart and tucked it away like a keepsake in a treasure chest, for what I don’t know, but it no longer pined for you…and the pleas that fell on deaf ears would never again be uttered from my silent mouth because I realized that standing felt so much better than groveling. And again, epiphanies are strange sometimes, like the one that…

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My Foolish Heart – Sperantia Zavala

Sperantia Zavala

Sudden Denouement Literary Collective


My heart burns for a love I’ve never known,

infatuation one reads about in a dirty novel; running his fingers through her soft hair, she gets goose bumps, smitten by his touch.

The rest is up to imagination; mine takes me to an erotic place satisfied with sensual pleasure.

This nagging desire for sizzling passion never goes away;

it is as unpredictable as the roll of the dice.

If you are lucky, you win!

If you are unlucky, you lose….

When it slips away, a lingering disappointment is left stinging at the core.  

Does fortune possess our destiny in this coveted fascination I seek?

I think I had it once–maybe twice? Well, there was that third time, which wasn’t such a charm.

For unfortunate, and obscure, reasons each connection disintegrated slowly unraveling over time.

Perhaps my chance at experiencing true adoration is forever gone.

Is there such a thing…

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it’s hard to believe – SRP


Sudden Denouement Literary Collective

it’s hard to believe – SRP
can’t seem to get up from this chair
as the walls crumble to the ground
the christmas lights still shine like stars
all around
slowly start to blur
i remember that thing you said to me
your voice echoes in my head
a haunting dream
slowly bleeding
we start to die
you died
looking back at the years that
passed us by
its like living in a dream
its like we’re living a dream
living in a dream
seeing how it used to be
can’t believe all the imagery
never mind the in-between
today its just you
[SRP is founding member of the Sudden Denouement Literary Collective]

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Blame the Hurrycane (excerpt 17, “The Vacuum”)-PBBR

Sudden Denouement Literary Collective

by pbbr

July 27, 1989

His trailer was crammed in a single lot at the Speckled Trout Mobile Home Park, only a stone’s throw from the channel. The smell of burnt rubber and dead fish hung in the air. Over the pines, the cranes of Barbour’s Cut Terminal banged stacks of cargo crates onto mammoth vessels. Drayton carried his lunch pail through the lightless courtyard and waved at a group of plant workers. They were hunched around a smelly oil drum fire like sentries at some backwoods leper colony.

You got a stog? yelled one, a fatcheeked welder everyone called Ogre. He wore a thin ponytail and a ball cap over his bald dome.

I only got one, Drayton said.

Well that’s good. I can only smoke one at a time. Ogre took it and lit it off the fire. I get paid Friday, he said, and held out a bottle of Mad Dog.

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