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Blood-stained tears A non-consensual act Leaving her brandishing a new body The siren sounded when his hands touched her Now The siren keeps him away Waves of trauma and paranoia Forever haunting her It wasn’t her fault To be preyed on twice Makes her more aware That the siren is there This filthy act Made her isolate and void  Not once, but twice A private room And A restraining order Talking about it hurts too much But maybe Talking about it will prevent it  The siren sound

read me like a fine print like my body hid a clause you hadn't noticed before look through me unfeelingly past pleading eyes and hands bloodied from holding you even as you beg to go but unravel my womanhood before you leave reduce me to my womb a name never to be passed down measure my worth  in futures i cant carry render me nothing but an empty  vessel for your dreams love me, like a seed loves the soil— only if it promises to bloom. love me, until my body can't  bear your

tossed watercress hair   eyes of aquamarine salt-licked skin bloodless lips ocean ghoul, what would you give to be human? you are everything  i should have imagined you cannot have me so far from home She pulses at your hips rough and hateful, gentle when you deserve it.  will you ever deserve it? you try to be kind, but you never learnt the word  the salt stings like hell when you press your self against mine the waves thrash and froth against your back my hands pull away pe

You have seen me before,  and you will see me again. Me, with my dirty hands, and you, with yours clean. Lady Ligeia, I’ll rise  And as a shadow, depart— jagged and breathless, exploding through the night. Now, I wait— eyes wide, claws sheathed, my red mouth wet and skin soft like teeth. But one day,  my wings will grow, and it’s you that I’ll find and swallow whole.

(originally published on medium on 30/10/24, rewritten for Grapeshot) i knew you the moment i saw you. the light in your eyes, the pulse in your veins, the skin of your stomach... you were not my first, but with each bite, i want you to be my last. your flavour is sweeter than anything i’ve tasted —  juicier, softer, warmer. suffocation does not stop those who truly desire, the hunger grows and growls and waits and prowls. i could eat you until i was full and then eat you som

16th November 1903 Jamie stared out into the distance, hearing the familiar sound of harsh waves crashing against the cliff face. He sat back in his chair, feeling the wind slowly pick up speed. The weather was getting worse this time of year, and it was only a matter of time before his final shipment would arrive. 433 cans — enough to last him a few months. No sailor in his right mind would come near Bell’s Island if they could avoid it. A sharp gust of wind sent a chill thr

Please be aware that this piece contains references to assault It was coarse and rough on the beach  But softer than you You were tailing Voice drowned by the waves For the ocean is a woman's domain The wave swallowed Me whole, along with you The unwelcome grain in the oyster An abrasive force that hums That there would be no pretty pearl without it Just us, it would seem Till the tide draws in and the hands begin To claw at my back No, they claw at you back  For me, whilst a

It is our last day before you go on holiday to Europe,  And we spent it with friends, wandering along the beach. We threw stones until my shoulder hurt, and  Then I picked up pretty ones to offer you (and our friends, because I can’t give the game away). How like the sky you are, changeable and free.  You are a wild thing  I wish to bottle and preserve In a poem. I don’t think I can,  But thank you for playing along,  I think.  The clouds are pale and scratched onto the blue

Moonlight seeps into the mist, illuminating droplets into an ethereal haze. A single tendril curls toward the rusted wheel. It begins to spin. Twelve long poles radiate from its centre, each crowned with a seat wide enough for two. The abandoned Ferris wheel goes around and around, purposeless in its emptiness.  The forgotten festival awakens. Lights spark one by one, glowing golden in the glass cages of pathway lamps, studding the structures of rides stirring from slumber a

The old skeleton grins at me, Missing teeth, I pulled a few for a keepsake.  There is a thrill in the air during war  Like that final moment in our consummation,  An all-out orgasmic ritual feeling  As the whole world shakes, and you remain. I dream of you, at night, during the day Sometimes I fuck my fist to the thought Of your soft hair, bright eyes, that moonlit skin, Christ.  If I had a choice, I’d come home now And hold you, entwined with you, Until I die.  The skeleton

Femme Fatale need not be introduced.  They’ve had her since they could                                                                           pin                                                                                 her                                                                                         down   with their reed-pens.   But do they know Masc Fatale? Where were you in the history books?  Making me s w o o n in your men’s-section slacks and secondh

Once upon a time, there was a little mermaid who was as beautiful as she was deadly. She had unnaturally long fingers and elongated fangs, her hair was as soft as seaweed and she grew scales on her skin. Today was feasting day and the little mermaid and her serpent sisters swam towards the shore to devour the warm blood of mankind.  They swam to where the water heated from the sun, and the sound of children’s laughter gurgled from the shore.  The sisters split and began to si

Aouwghhhhgghhhh I yam 2 dam horney I am TOO damn horny They could put me in a saw trap But then I’ll just be sawing Off my leg because eyeam  too damn horny Shoot me into space shoot ropes all over the place Have to rename the milky ways Because I’m too damn horny I love SEX and I love to HAVE IT I feel like Ed Sheeran with his bad habits I feel like Steve Lacy like a bad habit But it’s not a BAD habit I love sex like a goddamn rabbit I love sex ‘til it makes me stupid I love

Contributor Maryam Bokhari explores fan edits, specifically thirst edits, and the ways fans consume such media.  Fan edits romanticise the mundane, captivate the masses, and persuade the sceptic. Like it or not, fan edits have mastered the creative compression of long-form media. Through visual, auditory, and graphic manipulation, they condense complex narratives and magnify key moments, characters, and aesthetics. It's no wonder Gen Z loves them – with our attention span eve

Editorial Assistant Juliette Allen explores the sexy, mysterious and ubiquitous online phenomenon: the‘Office Siren’. The ‘Office Siren’  paradigm, never to be confused with ‘Corporate Baddie’  or ‘Corpcore ’, is an emerging trend coined by TikTok fashion aficionados, as a woman working in the field of… well you guessed it…Corporate! Though the trend itself isn’t interested in the specific sectors in which women work, but rather the style and sensibility they present. AlleyGi

Editorial Assistant Elizabete Lasmane delves into the good, bad and ugly of Dating App and Hookup Culture. Dear reader, this piece explores the devaluation of sexual intimacy, “Hookup Culture”  and its negative manifestations, and the global loss of interest in genuine connections due to the frequent use of dating apps amongst our generation. Please enjoy it with a cup of your comfort drink.  “Hookup Culture”  has become a global movement for our generation, manifesting in di

Editorial Assistant Rahima Bilgrami recounts the time the most magnetic siren of all seduced her: the non-stop corporate grind. If someone had told me in 2024 that in a year, I would willingly give up trying to manage my full-time job, two volunteer roles, and networking with the persistence of a LinkedIn algorithm on steroids, I would’ve laughed, cried, and then pulled my hair out from sheer terror. Because back then? I lived for the grind. I was Jessica Pearson in the flesh

Online Editor Vanessa Bland examines the romanticisation of the concept of virginity, through its extensive cinematic depictions. For decades, the silver screen has mythologised the concept of virginity. The “first time” has become a siren song to teenagers wanting to fit in or prove their worth. This siren song echoes through high school hallways, frat houses, suburban bedrooms, and prom night limos — promising transformation, status, or doom. In mythology, sailors crashed a

Section Editor Chantelle Mackintosh delivers a curation of good news stories to give you a break from the usual news cycle. The news can sometimes be very overwhelming and depressing; there's a lot of horrible stuff going on around the world. Take a break from all that with a wrap-up of some news items that’ll warm your heart. UK lowering the voting age:  The UK Government has moved to lower the voting age to 16 in time for the next election. This decision has been in the wor

Section Editor Chantelle Mackintosh retraces every twist and turn in the Erin Patterson mushroom case that gripped a nation. Victorian woman, Erin Patterson, has been charged with murder and attempted murder following the fatal lunch she hosted in July 2023, which left three people dead and one critically ill. With so many contrasting layers, how could it not grab the nation's attention? Here’s a wrap of all the important events leading to the final verdict.  The Important Pe

the little girl that i once was bitterly resides in the hollow of my chest and claws reminders against my rib cage of every fear i've...

the daughter we won't raise still waits for you in the hollow of a life never lived her laughter an echo, dispersed the day forever fell...

…in the vibrant notes of a past june's laughter, a melody we unknowingly sealed with a february's silence. it is a uniquely torturous...

i outlived the girl who loved you life has etched smile lines into my skin  that you've never touched but there are nights my old...