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 vitalContinue reading “I Breathe Still”

Truth: the liquid kind

I listen to Radiohead when I contemplate killing you— I want to smash your glass and get at the inside of your meaning. Shells tell different truths— look at me. See, I’m right and tight with my plastic teeth, and painted eyes that never blink. We mislead, you and me. © Kindra M. Austin (image: Gifer)Continue reading “Truth: the liquid kind”

Hi. I’m an Alcoholic. Nice to Meet You.

Hi. I’m Kindra—alcoholic. It’s been thirsty seconds since my last drink, and thirty nine years since my last confession. I turn forty in December. I’ve kissed a few girls, dropped acid once, finger fucked myself eleventy hundred times, and committed adultery with an Englishman who won’t leave me alone— my pussy is lined with gold.Continue reading “Hi. I’m an Alcoholic. Nice to Meet You.”