Give me your golden heart

Give me your kindred spirit

Give me your bright light

Give me your forgiving soul

Give me your generosity

Give me your glass world

Give me your crying desert

Give me your precious wisdom

Give me your burning essence

Give me your tender heart beat

Give me your gentle words

Give me your beloved patience

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All you do is spin in a circumference

All you do is dwell in a circus

And it all feels the same

All you do is throw away the compass

All you do is dance in this sphere

And it all feels the same

All you do is stumble in the fuzz

All you do is rewind and push play

And it all feels the same

All you do is gravitate to a cycle

All you do is remain who you are

And it all feels the same

She’s dressed in compromise

with a splash of anaesthesia

Lost in the scars

She’s wreaking ruins

with a touch of benevolence

Tangled up in a mess

She’s covered up in scotch

with a hint of animalism

Disoriented in the haze

She’s cleansed in affection

with a pinch of pandemonium

Invisible to the

She’s laced in anarchy

with a shot of jangle and bedlam

Slipping in oblivion

She’s cauterizing affection

with roses in her palms

Scatterbrained colors

I’m disappointed in myself as usual

I’m disappointed to reach for something I can not feel

I’m disappointed with my voice of truth

I’m disappointed in my ignorant silence

I’m disappointed with my points of view

I’m disappointed with my deceptive mind

I’m disappointed in the fool I can’t see

I’m disappointed that I couldn’t feel the needles puncture my skin

I use to languish in the polygon of my weeping mind

I thirst for the fragments of my anguish to mold my center

I use to sulk inside myself and drink the wine of selfishness

I sunk my teeth into the dejection

I use to dwell in the camouflage and sink in my words

I swam in the black river under the oppression

I use to neglect faith and drown in the empty tear ducts

I fell into the depths of silence

I use to grieve in the awaken sadness and never sleep

I felt the last breath deceive me

I use to shed my dead skin in the morning to erase the gloomy nights

I carried a chain of misery

I use to gasp at the hollowness and gazed at the autograph

I refused to stare at the nemesis

I saw the signature and found it revolting

A transformation within shouted

I kill myself to please the unappreciative

I kill myself to be the juggling act

Thank you for me leaving me in the corner

I kill myself to save you from the trenches

I kill myself to be something I’m not

Thank you for hanging me in the light

I kill myself to write the perfect script

I kill myself to grip onto the last prayer

Thank you for the cynical laugh

I kill myself to seek answers that don’t exist

I kill myself to satisfy all that you crave

Thank you for showing up to my funeral

Before you

castrate me

Let me sew up

your cesspool

I’d rather hear

nails on a

chalkboard than

your satanic moans

see me, I’m a seamstress–

needle and thread

put away those bitch teeth

aching in your head

Before you

piss in my cornflakes

Let me shatter

and shred your

fake Barbie doll world

that lives in

my iconic kingdom

neath plastic skin

vinegar rivers–

acetic acid,


Before you

scream in my

volcanic ears

Let me watch

you cry as the

reality sinks deep

knowing no one

gives a shit

about your existence

I refuse to placate–

I’m the real deal

this is all your fault

to hell with how you feel

Kindra M. Austin ~ Italic Parts 

Braeden Michaels – Non Italic Parts

Roses of transparent moments collide

I do a moist conversation in the horizon of the orange sky

I am drenched in sweat craving your magical words

I am lost in the softness of your mind

I float on lips of resurrection, I hang in the golden wax of your lotus body

I hang and you hold me like the dripping twists and turns on fold of my skin,

I disappear on Cupid’s pavement searching for your fragile soul

I inhale your breathless scars

I have counted pain, I have sustained and coloured my pain

I sip your honey in the chalice of my tongue

I embrace your canvas like an artist

I have fallen for your words like a ballerina

Your words strike paradise and pour a lump of seasons.

A travesty, tapestry, Titanic.

I am in awe of your twinkling perception

I cradle your warmth and stitches

As I take birth and die in the symmetry of your curve.

I am in reborn absorbing your divine essence

My words – Italics

My Valiant Soul – Non Italics

Check out My Valiant Soul blog. She is a brilliant writer and it was a pleasure to collaborate with her.

An arrogant expletive in the middle

Molded and sculpted from above

A name of excellence and spectacularity

One compelling man rising

from his own two hands and confidence

A mission of accomplishments

Ripping teeth from a lion

Wrestling with inward demons

Battling with clever and wit

Flowing with wide intellect

Dashing sense of humor

Standing twenty feet tall

Conquering all small defeats

to become larger than a movie

Ladies and Gentleman

Children of all ages

Wear belief like a trench coat

Never take it off

Surrounded by the shrapnel

Six thousand reasons to fade

A service in your polite eyes

Ungrateful and dissatisfied

Watch me flip in rectangles for you

Continuing to give the minimum

Throwing me up against the brick

wall like a domino

As you never give me an inch

Counting the years one by one

Year 15 is the most critical one

Please read it again

I am just a provider and a dollar sign

Prove to me differently

She scribbled about instigators, wolves, and faceless clowns

She scribbled about shockwaves, blooming flowers and pieces of the heart

She scribbled about unfounded wisdom and the disciples

She scribbled about thick tension and the absent of the light

She scribbled about twirling magic and the dust that never settled

She scribbled about hidden fears and white knuckled prayers

She scribbled about disappointing laughter and cynicism

She scribbled about hopelessness and one night stands

She scribbled about trees of money and sand on the beach

She scribbled about endless dreams and stood dead center of a cold nightmare

Check out my books!

Possessed and obsessed of the clack

High pitched sound ringing

Creaking of the board on the 5th step

Porcelain chimes hanging on the porch

Three year old stuffed baby doll

Underneath the empty crib

Desolation is a sore pimple waiting

Luggage sitting in the run down van

Nervousness stains on her cheeks

Courage turns the key in the ignition

Straying from a house of wreckage

Abandoning abuse from a tiny man

Check out my books!

In the kiss of jinx

Strapped in contamination

Afflictions slip and slide

Sorrow is a ten foot stain

In the crunch and the clutch

Trapped as a canker sore

Recognition of swollen stitches

Corroding and deteriorating

Reversed in singing anguish

Fuming in hazardous dialogue

Attached to a poison downfall

One immense spectacle

Enigmatic magnet

Close up extravaganza

Delightfully hypnotic

Appealing to the hungry

Stretched out imagination

Enthralling to the majority

Consumed like a narcotic

Curved in the mind

Swirling and twirling

Dumbfounded by the crowd

Pleading to want more

Would you like to watch?

I could easily fall

for the moon in your twinkling eyes

I could easily fall

for your precious skin

I could easily fall

for your soothing heavenly voice

I could easily fall

for the stars above your head

I could easily fall

for your gentle and warm touch

I could easily fall

for the sweetness on your lips

I could easily fall

for the world held in your palm

I could easily fall

for your charm and wit

I could easily fall

for your enticing sigh

I could easily fall

into your delicate universe

She begged for an unchained massacre

She begged for flickering lightning

Unable to see a perfect mystique

She begged for a push and a pull

She begged for undying love

Unable to see a perfect mystique

She begged for an overwhelming urge

She begged for unsettling nerves

Unable to see a perfect mystique

She begged for a screaming picture frame

She begged for a prey and a predator

Unable to see a perfect mystique

She begged for a glass shattering into pieces

She begged for a world to never end

Unable to see a perfect mystique

that eventually comes to a halt