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

Dreadful

I can’t drive past a dead animal splayed and stinking on the side of the road in the summer heat without thinking of you. The tang you’d left behind inside your apartment is no different than a fucking stupid deer, rotting; we’re all animals, after all. The similarity is incredibly depressing. Makes my mind wander

Happy Wives Bake Pies

The sun came begging again at my doorstep; I turned him away. Got no use for gods at play. Too much decease has grown me up. I am weeds, immune to disease, and I only live in order to survive. But to what end? So questions Depression, mine. Depression is the paparazzi— always trying to

Shadows of You: anchor in the fog

a collaborative poem by Braeden Michaels  and Kindra M. Austin Overflowing drops of sadness crash the grounds of reality  Waves of anger and frustration  soar through every vein  Camouflaging the numbness  wakens the frozen memories  Slowly losing the crack of a smile  shades of grey and black entwine   A living ghost I am, alone— all that

Asphyxia

I am not the life air you breathe. I am that which asphyxiates. I can’t save you, only claim you. I can’t love you, only keep you down; press you into blue.   *image: GIFY  

Signs of (half) Life

Radio Silent, and Brain Static– (sshhh…) (i cannot hear my) Heart Beating, (i cannot feel my) Lungs Breathing Half Dead Electric Skin Sensational– (buzzz…) Static Brain, and  Silent Radio

Wishing For Death: 1

Understand me. I wished him dead. I did have half a mind to kill him once, with a cast iron skillet, caught up in the white-hot frenzy. I was fourteen years old, and convinced I was prepared to murder the man choking my mother in the kitchen while a beef roast baked in the oven.

Catch a Chronic Illness

If you don’t have a chronic illness, I suggest you find one, grab hold of it, and hand over control. Life is much simpler when you have something legitimate to blame. If you feel like cutting out of work early, your illness is the best excuse to walk out in the middle of your shift,

Anxiety: a trivialized disorder

Too many people are unsuspected of suffering anxiety and depression. My daughter is a kind, helpful, happy, talkative young woman. She’s a pharmacy technician, so every day she interacts with patients, both face to face and over the phone. My girl is brilliant–everyone LOVES her. I’m a proud mama. Despite outward appearance, Nicole is an

I Reign Over Sand

You, she, and he tethered to me–a chain gang we be, chain smokers answering chain letters for luck. I’m in the lead–you put me here, but all the bad calls you will make; we stop dead when you see a fancy man you’d like to fuck over with your madness.   That was years ago