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

Let Old Bones Lie

I never could tell if it was my body or my mind he ached to strip. He had a weakness for pretty disasters and ugly tragedies. The cut of his tongue sliced through both. Colors exploded into me, violent shades of him, striking my soul. Hush your quaking heart, we have many things to see. … Continue reading Let Old Bones Lie

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

Holt Street

I wound a broken guitar string around my left thumb and index finger until I could no longer feel either of them because I was high and I liked the shades of red and white that pulsed down my hand until he unwound the string and placed my palm in his own, and then I … Continue reading Holt Street

SMITTEN This Is What Love Looks Like – A Review

I fucking love poetry. I love good poetry, exceptional poetry, poetry that sits heavy on my chest and reaches down my throat to pull my own words out of my belly, and thank the goddess, in the era of the Instapoet and art without soul, Indie Blu(e) publishing and Candice Daquin have given us all … Continue reading SMITTEN This Is What Love Looks Like – A Review

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

July

I think I saw you again in the moonlight tonight, and I swear I could taste the hints of it all: the moment June whispered her goodbye and July roared in on the cusp of thunder, dripping in memories rained down on my door. It’s all just a little bit beautiful, a whole lot lonely, … Continue reading July