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

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)

Head Over Heels

I’m head over heels, tied up and strangled by my entrails— my insides excised— you keep a terrific tongue unleashed between liar’s teeth stained with victory and breast milk. Man-child, I’ve never known a coward quite like you. Your truth is treachery; and it fucking guts me. I’m head over heels in disgust with you.

For My Truest of Loves

The day was grey-blue, echo of your eyes; sky filled up with promise of rain, and we waited for beloved petrichor. Lemon yellow and speckled black, a noble friend clasped your flaxen strands and flexed its wings. What dreams did she bring, my darling? Do you know how often I dream of the daylight that

The Dust Storm

Dust with hearts pumping, and lungs screaming love and hate and sex and violence. Dust with stomachs aching— too much designer caramel latte, and blood in the streets. Dust with mouths vomiting rhetoric. Dust with ears hearing but never listening.   © Kindra M. Austin (image: The Babylon Bee)

See Ya’ll in Hell

Matthew 7:2 (King James) For with what judgment ye judge, ye shall be judged: and with what measure ye mete, it shall be measured to you again. I’m not religious, and I don’t fear a god, but I feel like I’ve got a pretty good handle on how people should treat one another. But I

Feminism is my Realism- Kindra M. Austin & Christine Ray

Originally posted on Whisper and the Roar:
SONY DSC I am Organism Female Defense Mechanism Natural Feminism is my Realism ? Because #MeToo, Motherfuckers I’ve been abused Been paid less cash Called a Radical Cunt a Bleeding Heart Liberal and Put in my place— Not my place, but theirs ? I’ve been judged by the…

My Last Defense

Marcia was sixteen years old when she was disfellowshipped—the resultant of a rape accusation. The Kingdom Hall doesn’t fuck around, you see. The Brother in question was a husband and father; Marcia was the babysitter. Even though her father wanted to notify the police, and press legal charges against the sick fuck who’d violated his

JW’s and Meanderings

I lost my religion the day I was born to a beautiful young woman abused by her mother’s god. At the age of sixteen this innocent was raped by a Brother—a married man with children. The Elders voted to excommunicate the girl—my mom. So there should be no wonder why I abhor Jehovah’s Witnesses. Even

Virgins

Dear Virgins, Allow me to extend my genuine gratitude; I’m honored you have chosen to visit my blog. I hope your time does not prove wasted here, as building human connections through the written word is paramount to me. I’ve made many friends via WordPress. I’ve also offended a metric fuck-ton of people; these folks