Push into light with innocent wails in a sterile room
A dim foreshadowing in a blinding light
Teased and tortured then feared and hated
Always searching for, chasing, like that perfect pumpkin spice
Love denied, love denied, love denied
Rinse and repeat
Continuously spiraling through the void
Push into darkness with infantile sobs.
Long Island’s Homegrown Art & Writing Zine