elementia

Wordsmith

By Maddie Jones

words

like amorphous chunks of metal

they rest on a shelf in my brain

and beg to be molded



I long to hold them in the

fire of my skull

till they are soft and malleable


An Open Letter to Joseph Conrad

By Jess Holmes

Dear Mr. Uber-Goth,

I don’t pretend to understand the intricacies within the mind of any literary genius, but I’ve got to let it out...your endless pessimism is bringing me down.


Losing Lila

By Jessica Sutter

It looked a bit like Lila, but it wasn’t Lila. I don’t know why people say that when someone dies they look like they’re sleeping. Her skin was dull grey and colder than ice. Her long body lay limp and heavy on the stainless steel table. Her clothes were dirty and rumpled.