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

Today’s the Day I Learned You’d Died

And how do I save her? The one who loved you better. The one you’d left with, leaving me behind. I’d be fine, without you. Never mind the breakdowns after summer vacation was over— we’d say goodbye for twelve years, and it never got easier for me. You were always okay with sendoffs. I’d cry.

100 Proof

I thought I heard you coming through the car radio, en route to nowhere that really much matters. Train Kept a Rollin’ and I didn’t change the station, even though I’d rather step in soft dog shit with bare feet than listen to Aerosmith. You’d always loved Aerosmith. Now I hate Aerosmith cos you don’t

No More Does Death Do

Sarcophagus closet kept closed at the end of the hall- way. Skeleton key hangs unused; a loosened noose around my neck reminds me,   No more does death do.   No more does death do, than I have grown accustomed to.   And I can live without you, mama, here, on the opposite side of

The Fatal

Bald, and fragile—   Crooked body bloated with poison to fight the fatal that was killing you.   I should have said,             I love you.   Instead, I said, Good to see you.   © Kindra M. Austin    

Of the Stars

Of the stars, we are born;   And to the stars we shall return as dust welcomed home.   © Kindra M. Austin

What I Am

I am but paper, gatherer of verses— rip me rip me when I die.   Tear me tear me into mouth sized morsels. Consume me when I die; Let me exist though I may not live.   © Kindra M. Austin

I Breathe Still

For a minute or more, I was dead as you, as you were technically dead before the end was absolute— before your brain conceded. For a minute or more, my world was edged in blossoming dark, engrossing, on the cusp of consent. Blackbirds congregated, chattered ‘round my head, and they called dibs on my vital

At Least I Know Now

Tramadol Toxicity— that’s a real bitch-ity. Surely Narcotics are dirty Sarcastics?   High risk for addiction and dependence. Can cause respiratory distress and        h death               g when            i taken in  h doses or combined with other substances, especially alcohol.   You

Phantom Pain

  Thought I’d felt my heart stir. Make my hands into shovels and dig up the garden, again.   Goddamned, I am. There it is, feeding the weeds.   © Kindra M. Austin (image: Pinterest)