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
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