Heavy Mental by Kindra M. Austin – A Review

“Two new lungs inflate within my beaten chest. I watch the rise and fall; my eyes are like an infant’s, opened for the first time, and I want to see.” Kindra M. Austin, The Rise and Fall “You don’t like what these eyes reflect, and I’m the one who disintegrates.” Kindra M. Austin, Disintegration “The … Continue reading Heavy Mental by Kindra M. Austin – A Review

The Long Road Home

It’s been awhile since I’ve walked this dusty road, but I remember it well. That spot there, where the sun never quite reaches, is where I found myself on my knees praying to a god I didn’t believe in. Bodies upon bottles upon razor blades gleaming with self-harm and a cocaine glow fill the ditches … Continue reading The Long Road Home

Looking at me

You keep fucking looking at me as if I haven't just swallowed your lust, as if the puddles of your pride hadn't slipped from my lips and dribbled down my chin. You keep fucking looking at me as if the taste of you didn't just try to burn a hole through my sternum and pool … Continue reading Looking at me

Sunday Brunch

My lack of words had never sounded as sweet as they did on the night my tongue was tangled inside out and up with yours, but had I known heaven could be found drowning inside your mouth, I would have met you there, months or a minute sooner, at that place on the corner of … Continue reading Sunday Brunch

The Hard Part of the Night

You left me to hold the hard parts of our life and the night, and I still try to mute the sound of my own heart breaking, but it breaks again and again, over and over until the shards of it climb from my chest and pull my lungs from my throat, my lungs that … Continue reading The Hard Part of the Night

I Developed A Taste For It

I would have loved nothing more than to leave you gracefully, but those matches I had hidden in my back pocket were yearning to be struck as I had been stricken with guilt and buried underneath your lies somewhere in the bottom of your soul, next to the misfortune you carried and scrawled into the … Continue reading I Developed A Taste For It

to Drink and to See You, Again

Do I need to drink to see you again, cut myself open again, to bleed you out in a rush? You’re gone now, packed up and left again, always fucking again, until again means nothing unless I drink and I drug, again, and I split the cosmos, again. Until I scream louder, again, and faster … Continue reading to Drink and to See You, Again