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  • Exequies of and Angel Illustration

    Exequies of an Angel

    Rip off my wings, Cut off my golden curls; Extinguish the light I give To frightened boys and girls. Strip me of my snow white robes, Use my halo to slash my cherub’s face; Reap me of all my worth, Pull me down so far from grace. Then leave me, red and raw, Alone on […]

  • The Fire Dancer by Aoife Hughes

    The Fire Dancer

    I dragged the match across the sandpaper coarse side of the box. Splintered sparks scattered outwards with a flare of life. An amber corona swaddled the match tip and the scent of sulfur coated my nose. I tipped the match gently against a ragged wick. The fire caught, throwing a white flame upwards. It waltzed […]

  • Falling by Laura Nash

    Falling

    Looking back, everything seemed so infinite, though I had no understanding of the word. It was me – yes, I had family that cared, friends that would make fun; but in that one moment, it was just me. Running wild, monsters roaming free: “I’ve got to run! Run or they’ll catch me!” Racing down paths […]

  • Granny - Liam wallace

    Granny

    Memories are like old movies; 
I would watch some more than others, 
We all have our preferences. 

Standing on the ageless bridge, 
A scene flickers in my head, 
 Torn from a broken film. 

A small hand held by an older one; 
A friendly voice talking slowly, 
 So my little ears can hear. 

Suddenly […]

  • Individuality

    Individuality

    Born one of a kind Differently wired mind Always the odd one out Without a doubt Days went by in a haze No self-esteem since thirteen Never keen in being A part of a Scene Never left the house Quiet as a mouse I’d think, and think Until the brink And eventually would sink I […]

  • Illustration for The Fairies by Alice Spencer

    The Fairies

    They all see her: that girl, all dressed in black. They never talk to her; they’re too frightened she’ll attack. They know what she’s done, but, not why she has; they think she’s desperate for attention. They’re wrong. She never asks. They don’t know her dreams about the black parade. They don’t know how much […]

  • Illo003_Hands_flat

    Hands

    The first thing I learned about holding someone’s hand is that it was a restriction. When they gripped my fingers so tight I thought they’d fall off. I knew I couldn’t pick and choose where I wanted to go. I was stuck, quite firmly, by their side. I hated having to hold their hand. The […]

  • Illo002_Wondering_Flat

    Wondering

    So she sat to think about these crazy things: like, why one goose, two geese; but not one moose, two meese? Mouse, mice; louse, lice; blouse, blice? Why do eggplants have no eggs? Nor hamburgers, ham? Neither pine nor apple in pineapple? How is a song a jam? Why writers write, but fingers don’t fing? […]

  • Where's my child by Harry Kealy. Illustration by Alé Mercado

    Where’s My Child

    I will look and never smile; Look and listen for my missing child; Is he hurt or is he dead? These thoughts wonder within my head. Hurt and wrung my eyes will be; Never will I find him, Dead is he Listen for his soft call; Where is he? I will fall. I shall die […]

  • For Beginners - Mariana Byrne. Illustration by Alé Mercado.

    For Beginners

    Firstly, Clasp a heart that’s black and grey Once heard one might just lightly say That one cannot live day on day Without once wishing that one was dying Secondly, Drop a wish right into a pool Your sick and twisted handy tool To make such others seem a fool Not through wrongness but through […]