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a space for youth writing on mental health & identity
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 Strike at the dead of night The apex of twenty-four hours This town will sink as you smile like a dimple would do Eyelids rise and fall with tears, but our chests stay put; we’re soulless, sordid monsters strike above the ribs of our ignoble pastures there is zero heart to be found at the zero hour of night the recoiling of blood, vessels, sky black Strike while we wait, unconsciously for the sun to emit its distaste upon us again Soon, we’ll eye ourselves six feet underground, coughing parted from our chests This affliction will soothe our lungs– the fire assures us with its twinging, throttling we are human once more surge of relief, a brief pause, then gone Our town scorned to its thorax where we possess no heart at all Nighttime once promised me joy for eternity, but if promises were kept we wouldn’t be smelling of cut-rate smoke while the rich stand in peace as the zero hour ticks on we bid good night, “see you again” instead of goodbye It’s carved into our tongues “goodbye” evacuates our shacks, the leaky roofs you set ablaze, going untranslated At midnight, strike us we’re ecstatic to see you again. Soulless sordid to forever decay to forever drift Laying here is a corpse, tanned by my epidermis; peer inside the scales, peeling skin, redness then survey how the throbbing pain leisurely dwindles to ash, under the midnight moon agony, relief, brief pause clock chimes, then it decays, drifts before turning into a shield of fire. Cailey Tin is a 14-year-old Asia-based staff writer and podcast co-host at The Incandescent Review. Her work has been recognized by Spillwords Press and published in Fairfield Scribes, Gypsophila zine, Alien Magazine, and more, under the pen name Cailey Tarriane. Visit her Instagram @itscaileynotkylie.
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