To Her by Anonymous

version of compensation for her selfish abandonment of me.

Her ghostly touch moved up to my rigid collar bone, tracing every area with a gentleness unmatched. Mirroring her taunting, trace of a remembered touch, I too, lifted my hands to my collarbone, scraping them into the skin, feeling the pleasure of the miserable sting. It was real to me. She confidently continued her touch around my neck, hands brushing the sensitive skins as I followed. My own claws reached around my neck with little hesitation.

Each whisper of her spectral touch sent me into a deeper spiral of darkness and caused me to add longing pressure around my neck. My fingers, my nails, sank into my skin, a violent action replaced the delicate one, so desperately needed. The room became dimmer as I felt my vision slowly dissipate. Blood trickled down from the punctures on each side of my neck as my frame slumped into the chair. The chair I had once sat so upright in.

By Mitzi Simpson

the knife you hold brings down the bone and the blood red against the sheet. The sheet is stained and my eyes are Tired and bored. you hold each chain in your hand and at the end of each one is a man who is just a broken concept of a mind. bring back the dogs and feed them with the bones you cut from their arms. your eyes are brown your hair lighter the swirls in your pupils have captured me.

By Shoshana Levy

Love