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The theme for April was nightmares and fears.

“The Devil’s Diorama” by Katie Elmer

Over a workbench in hell the devil slouched

And pulled humans one by one

From a large red velvet pouch

And coated them in cold glue

In her dream this syrupy glue was fear

It spread slowly and dripped elegantly

When hardened, it had a black red hue

And crusted over her eyes, mouth, and shoes

He set each human carefully out to dry

Leaving the fear glue to harden just right

And after a night under the black Hades sky

He stuck them where he wanted on Earth until they died

But no one is perfect, much less the devil

Because he didn’t notice her when she started to wriggle

And when he lifted her back up to ground-level

He hardly noticed her just barely tremble

While the devil’s demons played with the frozen figures

Of small humans coated in layers of glue

She broke through the crust of fear with her fingers

And crawled away to help others breakthrough

“Sonnet 217” by Sophia Rozzi

Silly little girl, he slurred in my ear

His long, thin coils tangle ‘round my neck

His ultimate goal to fill me with fear

Razor coils trickle my spine, every speck

You thought you could escape, he said to me

Screams echo throughout, I rage against the blur

I fought and pushed and longed to be free

He told me, we are more than you thought we were

On and on, I pushed for my freeing light

Punching and running and pulsing with rage

Try and try, oh god, try as I might

He hums to me, the hymn of a dark age

Finally, he has got me, coils unwound

For I fear, I am long underground

“My Fears Have Changed a Little” by Maggie McCabe

For a time I feared the falling feeling,

Sharp teeth and claws would send me reeling.

Fear held my hand at the edge of the road,

But slid off my back leaving no mental load.

Fear wasn’t in my skin or reflection

In fact, I paid no mind to my complexion.

As my limbs grew long,

And my adolescence became the new song;


My fears were suddenly soaked,

A fear of my skin was provoked.

Without warning my fears

Of the future were comprised in tears.

I fear that I’ll always be lost;

My eyes blurred in an icy frost.

I fear what I need to be found;

What if in artificial fixes I’m bound?

But, the tastes I’ve had of that plastic

Have nothing, nor made life fantastic.

I fear the hearts will lose their hue,

A selfish disparaging world will breakthrough;

I don’t mean to be cynical,

But it seems to me that the worlds become clinical.

Only strangers walk the streets,

A world obsessed with the elites.

“Woods” by Corinne King

Tears roll down my face

Like a rolling bowling ball

On the ramp as

My trembling body shakes

With fear.

Running through the

Dark, cold woods

While nature stabs the

Bottoms of my bare feet

Hiding, but I am in

Plain site, feeling the

Freezing whispers run

Down my crooked spine

My eyes are pried

Open by evil leaving

Me alone in the dark