Monthly Archives: February 2015

Exposed Emotions

We glow, like marbles
Crunch and glisten, in the palms
Of a magician,

Comes with a circumference,
We get none although,

We’re floating balloons,
Flying from earth reaching moon,
Our lone ambition,
Is to elevate in love,
We are magic on our own,

We glitter golden,
In each other’s eyes so bright,
More than diamonds,

That melts on our tongue,
The saccharine ecstasy
Won’t ever dwindle,

We’re floating balloons,
Flying from earth reaching moon,
Our lone ambition,
Is to elevate in love,
We are magic on our own,

And above.

- Mhomed Waleed @ Deviantart – Mhomed Waleed @ Deviantart

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H.M. Nolan

Now nothing before me
but these fleeting things
Or so it seems
in between moonlit dreams
I would dance on clouds
although it’s not allowed
but even monsters
long for beautiful things.

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Sometimes, miracles can happen

in the smallest of places…..


You know what pleases me in the early

morning, how to make me flow…

Mouth in pillow, catching my lips,

released on tips….

A bite on my inner thigh, pleasure sealed……


Sometimes when the time

is right, a breeze stirs, Spring yawns,

and childhood giggles…..

Sara Tantlinger

“I do not love you as if you were salt-rose, or topaz,
or the arrow of carnations the fire shoots off.
I love you as certain dark things are to be loved,
in secret, between the shadow and the soul.”
-Pablo Neruda, Sonnet XVII

Ah, amour.

What does today mean? It means I work all day in retail later and I’m sure after today I’ll never want to see roses or boxes of chocolates again (*cue the last minute shoppers.* Oh, they will come, believe you me). And today means I have a writing deadline for grad school by midnight. That’s about it.

Valentine's Day means zombie hearts, right? Valentine’s Day means zombie hearts, right?

Oh wait, it also means I can write you a love poem or two, *says the horror writer as she cackles and slips back into the shadows.*

I love love. Especially dark, twisted love. So much in fact that I wrote…

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I fell today, even with

wings on my back….

Exposed, flesh slashed….

Peeled, broken, darkness setting in,

waiting to be rescued….

Luke Atkins

Film, Music, and Television Critic

social underground



A Student Literary Journal

hands in the garden

reflection + romance + release

Diary of a Psychokiller

take a trip with me to the darkside


Rippling Juices Of The Bright Eyes


Thoughts on an ever-evolving life


. . .can you imagine?

During the days in which I choose to conform, I do so with a specific feeling in mind that I want to achieve. A sort of climax that I aim to reach. A feeling effortlessly maintained between the ages of 6-9 and again between the ages of 13-15, when being a girl was simply one of the numerous ways of being.


Views of a Dandelion Girl

Tshombe Sekou

Poetics & Rumens


Paranormal Author, Artist & Empath. Follow Sheila on Twitter, Facebook & Instagram! @sheilareneeparker