Forgotten

Let self-respect and amour-propre Turn my ceaseless cries into whispers, Until my heart is cleansed of your poison And you remain only in the basement of my memory. Because at the risk of claiming talent I do not have, I recognise that my words give you more power Than you have the right to claim,…

Pavement

I sit on the ledge staring down At the lights of the billboards Of women in fancy lingerie, The cars driving steadily past Like they’re on a production line, Their driver lulled into A false sense of conditional security By the pantomime life society has encaged us in. And I sit here, feeling so real…

Call for Submissions

Hello! So we’re looking to spice things up on Mafia a bit. How can you help? Well, I’m glad you asked our lovely reader. We’ve recently opened up slots for you to be part of our collective. You can do this either by applying to become a general contributor or, if you prefer, post once…

Sore Throat

I feel as though all the raging pain and anger I’ve felt in my heart all my life has now concentrated into one part of my body: the throat. I feel like a volcano, with hot, searing lava brimming at the surface there, ready to erupt at any given moment. But it does not erupt;…

The Catalysts

She never really believed in destiny; fortune; kismet; not even in the three old hags, the Fates, that she read about in Greek Mythology. But as she stood outside the office, something inside her felt like all that she had gone through led up to this one particular moment and that her life was going…

Little Moments

She didn’t tell me that the lights would go off, that All will come to an end. I didn’t know That the music will sound bitter one morning, That the leaves will fall from all the trees, And that the smiles will usually be Unhappy. She didn’t tell me. I found my old friend again:…

Before Flight

Can you promise that if our love were proverbial feathers weighed on a gently tipping balance mine would not sink? You are a bird poised just before flight, claws crooked sunk skin deep in me but molting, eyes fixed on the brink and I— I want to swallow the clouds, bittersweet and dusky ashen, wrench…