Ice Frozen Miscarriage-Kindra M. Austin

Sometimes I imagine myself not plummeting, but falling slowly, spiraling uncontrolled into the black; the nonentity is dizzying and cold like outer space, unsympathetic. I’m only a miscarriage of wishes and wisdom, ice frozen, looking for a comet to start my heart—ignite some fucking passion.   My brain feels itchy, like heavy wet wool. I’m…

My Death Is a Great Red Pen, Correcting-Kindra M. Austin

What you want, I ain’t got; and goddamn, I have the sinking feeling that it’s happening again, as night is falling down upon me. I submerge, accordingly—   await my death. My death eradicates mistakes I’ve made, and saves. My death is a great red pen, correcting—   according to Vodka, on top of Fibromyalgia,…

Entropy-Christine E. Ray & Kindra M. Austin

(Kindra M. Austin) Every morning, I wake up. I keep waking up. And sometimes I’m angry at my opened eyes, cos sometimes brittle fingernails scratching inside of my skull, they split and rip and bleed and blood leaks and shorts my circuits. Not enough to kill me dead, just enough to kill my will. And…

She Wore Emptiness-Kindra M. Austin

She wore emptiness, and I condemned her mantle, as I had Jehovah-god and all the men possessed by devil’s hands. And I convicted her— Murder of the Self. She wore emptiness, and never learned one goddamned lesson. Sometimes fists make poorly teachers; maybe mine’ve made a difference. Maybe I should’ve beaten her, too. Purple was…