Terrifying winter night


Plum fog drowns

the winter sky

and frost makes furniture

on the ground for insects

I stagger through the forest,

having just buried 12 possessed puppets

and 17 bloody jabots


by Ashlie Allen


Bees and ghosts


Blue hues of winter

flicker against your pale skin

I remember when you were a child

screaming in the garden

because there were too many bees

and too many ghosts

Now the garden is dead

and the ghosts and bees

reside inside your eyes


by Ashlie Allen


Cactus balloons


Her ghost whimpers

in the flower pot

as I pop balloons

against the cactus she held

the day she sighed, “Sayōnara.”


by Ashlie Allen


“Gothic colors”


The shadow of bats

through mauve fog,

the rattle of violent violin music

through skeletons and wood

I weep beneath

a dead woman’s window

as I pretend the world

is a funeral and I am a ghost

trapped in gothic colors


by Ashlie Allen

Ashlie Allen writes fiction and poetry. Her work has appeared in The Birds We Piled Loosely, Blink Ink, The Assonance Literary Magazine, Literary Orphans and others. She plans to become a photographer in the future. Her greatest influence is Anne Rice.

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