A Dream I Had

I And from the evergreen trees, walked a herd of white-tailed deer— two pairs of twelve point antlers leading through a field, dead brown, and crisp. The sky was colorless; sun shone butter pale, unmelting. II Seemingly unseen, I watched, and the deer continued to near. Two by two, they shed their great horns, and

Depression Stills Me

I Depression stills me again, and I watch with concrete eyes. Women I never could have been see me only as a monument for the otherwise; and I am lonely, here in this public park. Pigeons clutch my fingertips and peck at my nail beds; flecks of red collect at my feet and I’m reminded

I Die Every Hour/Within Irises

I I die every hour, watching you conform to all the ideals you were never meant for. You were never meant for… If only you would fall between my lines. I write to you honestly, my messy love, before midnight. I love you truly, complicated heart. You beat against your cage— rage against the cage

I Stopped Praying (from Heavy Mental)

I heard her troubled murmurs tangled with the soft gravel of a man’s voice; his name was Not My Dad, and he was dancing with my mom in the too bright kitchen, down the hall. Their shadows came in waves, crashing into the darkness beneath my bedroom door. They’d just finished fucking, out in his

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A Beautifully Epic Review of Heavy Mental Written By the Glorious Candice Louisa Daquin

Heavy Mental Kindra M. Austin Reviewed by Candice Louisa Daquin So, here’s how you know something blows your mind. You’re not feeling it. You’re not feeling poetry, writing, literature, people publishing books, publishing, none of it. You are drained. You’ve read and edited and reviewed so much that you’re spent. A good person asks you

Heavy Mental: an advanced review from Nicole Lyons, author of The Lithium Chronicles Vol. I & II

“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

Cold to the Bone

Lungs of disparities breathe in unison gusts. I am disproportionate, Speak my voices of dissidence in devilish tongues. I am the sick in my own mouth of madness, and Cold to the bone. I am the moonfaced ghoul that lives beneath the firmament And above ground, too— Hell won’t even host me. Because I’m disproportionate,

A Love Poem

His tongue tastes like saliva and cherry Skoal. When he wants to fuck, he asks if I’m in the mood; is that respect or indolence? Why should I care? His irises are two oceans alight with bursts of butter yellow sun; a pair of pupils are black holes I navigate. I love him, and I

All the Beginnings of Everything

I want to be the light at the very beginning, when shadows steal away, but still remain in waiting.             I want to be the             dawn             of             man,             beneath the sun,             and             in the sand.             I want to be the             first taste of             blood,             first