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Caught it but let it go, Bought it but it was sold. Reality is that you don’t know What you don’t know. Search through the dark tunnel, For the light on the other side But only get cobwebs and dust. Spiders crawl down to the floor, You scream not knowing You’re caged in your vows. Now the sweat covers your brows, so you crawl through the darkness, feeling more hollow than before. Because you caught me and never let me go, and I bought it but I was never sold. by Priya Singh

Ishtar queen of heaven far and near The realm of Hades she set her ear To her sister Ereshigkal, the finest clothes she wore And said farewell to her loyal companion Ninshubar. “Loyal Maid Ninshubar,” said Great Ishtar “When I have not returned in three days,” “Go to the gods to which humanity prays.” “Father Nanna, Enlil and Ea,” “He the master of primal Abzu’s sea,” “The one I got drunk, from whom I stole the Mes,” “With which I became the mistress of destinies.” After whi

Some ghosts must be set aside, Frozen in the past, Encased in the high towers of glass. Some haunting must be left inside, Caged in the ribs, Du-du du-du du-du, Fighting the storm amidst the rains. Some memories must be kept in a jar, Sunshine and giggles, Happy memories fit inside a terrarium. by Priya Singh

“Be careful with the needle.” My fingers pricked and poked, the light tap of her foot, the repetition of sounds, the whirring of the machine, on the table, hunched over the mahogany surface, stains of coffee and tea and other beverages embedded in the grains. My fingers began to ache, my mother held the fabric beneath the needle of the machine, I observed, when it was my turn, the stitches began to form quickly before twisting off the fabric. We readjusted the machine, this r

And then she said… And then she said… And then she said… Readers are advised to listen to ‘Perfection’ by Clint Mansell I don’t even know her, and yet I want to be everything she is. She has no name, and yet she is more real than what I am. I don’t share any of her looks, and I am not her… …and yet, everytime she touches her lips, I consequently feel my lips pushed upon. I have never been anywhere near her, and yet, I feel I AM her… ..or, at the very least, I should BE her.

They shivered, ducking their chin into the upright collars of their worn down oil-skinned coat. Their gloved hand held forward an oil lamp, the odd breeze causing the only light they had to flicker tremulously. It was their chance, of course, to be caught up in a sudden downpour of rain, the already uneven dirt road becoming muddy and clinging to their boots with all their might, like some abyssal monster trying to devour an unsuspecting— "Ack—" They wiped at their face, hiss