Afiqah 2d

the bitter truth is,
my insecurities have always been
a little too loud
cracking through every
little crevasse
that left me on swings
so I won’t be easily trapped by
my own insanity

but seems to me,
one can never fairly break out
without annihilating such damnation
that has stormily detonates
one’s becoming

so don’t say a word
or even let out a sigh
but watch me
as I swan into alleys, trusting
only the devil’s hands now
to bring a silent cheer
to this almost heart


Cartoon bunnies up our kiesters;

yellow chicks lay chocolate eggs.

Antichrist confection: Easter's

pastel poison. Drain the dregs.

Sweet untruths with trinkets given

lying in the plastic grass.

Dull consumers, market-driven.

Christ is risen... kiss my ass.

Our English word Passover, happily, in sound and sense, almost corresponds to the Hebrew [pesach], of which is a translation. Exod. Xii. 27. The Greek pascha, formed from the Hebrew, is the name of the Jewish festival, applied invariably in the primitive church to designate the festival of the Lord’s resurrection, which took place at the time of the passover. Our word Easter is of Saxon origin, and of precisely the same import with its German cognate Ostern. The latter is derived from the old Teutonic form of auferstehn, Auferstehung, i. e. resurrection. The name Easter is undoubtedly preferable to pascha or passover, but the latter was the primitive name.

[SOURCE: Ecclesiastical History to the Twentieth Year of the Reign of Constantine, 4th ed., trans. Christian F. Cruse (London: Oxford Univ. Press, 1847), 221.]
Ghostlizard Apr 3

A darkest hour, a darkest time
For him and for many, the day was sublime
For his knife was ready, curved to a point
The cultist was screaming, brother anoint
The oil was dripping, mixed with his gore
his form was sprawled, all over the floor
The circle was drawn, the time is now
Our god will be waiting, they’ll hear us somehow
We slice his throat, and we say the watchwords
We chant for an hour, then kill all the birds
The light is telling, our god has awoken
He is coming down, to the words we have spoken
And when he arrives, death to the foundation
If his presence is felt, enter damnation

Alyce Black Mar 20

This is how I like
my bruised skin
And how I like my sin

Pretty lights
across heavy flesh
ripe and warm
and wet
with the waters of

Sometimes I wonder if hell
is just a
fever dreamt
from the disorderly mind
of someone with issues
like mine

CK Marrow Dec 2016

Muted color
On darkest day                                          
There was a light
to show the way

In dreary towns
My eyes were bound
To the misty lights
Up on the cloud

What is that phenomenon?
Where did it go?
The place we are seeking
We shall never know.

As our eyes droop down
And our smiles go flat,
It is easy to see
That we shall never go back

To that muted color
On that darkest day
Where that light to guide us
Showed the way

Immortality is over
We are now doomed
To succumb to our future
As our destinies loomed.

As we were shot down
To the pits of Tartarus
My fate was no longer

We were forgone
Forever to roam
The pitch black world
Always to moan

That muted color
On darkest day
Was unfortunately one
To never stay

Liam C Calhoun Oct 2016

Sometime an umbrella’s just a rabbit
and sometimes horses are never to be rode upon.

Sometimes a mother’s tears are foolish
and sometimes sons don’t want to come home.

Sometimes pearly whites and smiles surround
and sometimes teeth detach and dagger backs.

But a dream is just that, “a dream is just that” –
but a wandering, but a dread, if only damnation;

and a “ta, tada, aha!” The wizard’s returned before
we realize we’re all magic, fooled and the foolish –

Incarnations, infestations, imaginations,
and messes come ends, damnations, the victims.

Heaping distress and all of our own accord,
your accord, our accord, notarized the

Nooses ‘round our necks.

Kerstin Martinez Oct 2016

I can feel the numbness
It pulses in my lips
I pinch my hips
To see if I still exist
I can't breath
Maybe I'm just suffocating
The air won't pull in  
My chest rises and falls
But nothing gets pulled in
Im suffocating in the darkness
That I created
From my own stupidity
The world is not ending
But my world is pulling away
Taking the air I breath with him
I'm left out in space
But there are no stars
It's the emptiness
I carved out around me
With bleeding hands
I can't breath
I can feel the numbness
It pulses in my lips
I feel the grace of fingertips
I try to latch on
I weigh a ton
Will my world hold on
After all my stupidity
Will he give me air to breath

sweetheart, sweetheart
here we come
from the hill nearby the river
we will take your first-born son
we will take and will deliver

sweetheart, sweetheart
close your eyes
he'll be taken to a palace
where nothing ends or dies
shines aurora borealis

sweetheart, sweetheart
here we are
singing songs of constellations
he will be our shining star
our blessing or damnation

Joko Curioso Sep 2016

I'm done.
This is the epitome of what sadness has to offer.
Of what it has to give.
I hate the fact that I'm scared to take my life away.
How hypocritical this may be,
I still immerse myself in regret.
I still feel the touch of the cold walls.
Oh, how long will this suffering be?
When will my life shed a glimpse of light in this darkened abyss?
When I will strive to achieve illumination?
I do not know.
I have abandoned it all.
Abandon hope.
No longer will I harbor the feeling of being loved.
No longer will I cherish the smile you have given me.
No longer will I bear the name that means grace.
No longer will I ever be myself anymore.

Pauline Russell May 2016

I hear the scratching in my walls all night
It sounds to sinister it gives me a fright
It could be mice or maybe legions
Of some really pissed off psycho demons
I hope it's just my fucked up imagination
Not again, my own damnation
Guess I'll just lay here and wait for the screaming
I've past insane, there's no redeeming

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