Until There’s Nothing Left

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My heart itches in the dark, and I can hear a scratching—

sounds like millions of insects marching

over a coffin.

 

I want to make my fingers into tiny shovels—

dig until there’s nothing left.

 

© Kindra M. Austin

Published by Kindra M. Austin

Author of fiction, poetry, and very sweary social commentary. Editor, and co-founder of Indie Blu(e) Publishing. Co-founder of Blood Into Ink, and Heretics, Lovers, and Madmen.

21 thoughts on “Until There’s Nothing Left

  1. I know how it feels to have anxiety at night when I get it bad it feels like my finger nails can pearce my palms funny how it effects people differently..you take care Kindra
    Sheldon Yoursly

    Liked by 1 person

  2. I know exactly how that felt, and i’d only experienced it on the superficial side, i can’t imagine how you’d weathered through this psychologically, because physically, it’s, hard enough, and i can only imagine, it’ll be even harder psychologically…

    Like

    1. Grieving is definitely tough. My mom has been gone a year. Sometimes I feel good about the way I channel my grief. Other times, I feel totally lost.

      Liked by 1 person

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