Rambunctious vile

Distasteful and loathsome

Repellant personality

Excruciating voice

Webs of rancid exteriors

A horrid smell of selfishness

Obnoxious point of view

Infamous small mind

Vindictiveness renders

Full filling the lonely

Unable to stand

Crawling like a two month baby

Expecting society to

play an orchestra for a

Prozac Nation

Chasing a high-pitch shout

down an empty bottle

Retracing every convoluted

and mindless discussion

that was conjured up

Deciding not to dwell or

wallow in your demise

doesn’t change that I

can feel every chard of glass

down Broken Bottle Highway

You call yourself a lost soul

but parts of you just vanish

You claim to seek the answers

to the questions you already know

Along the path of stubbornness

Broken Bottle Highway

runs parallel to your demons

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 is left of you

I talk in my sleep when I’m wide awake

In limbo I reach out to you,

my anchor in the fog

Overflowing mourning bellows

shattering the reflection in the mirror

Staring into the depths of your selfishness

stirring the darkest hurricanes

Consuming prescriptions of self-hatred

scream at your tarnished soul

Slowly your existence forever fades

whirlwinds of chaos downpour into your loved ones

A living ghost I am, alone—

evidence of your life

I keep together with special effects

And all I want is to touch you,

my anchor in the fog

Overflowing rain of melancholy

drip into the silence of your grave

Crumbled walls are now at your feet

as clouds hang over your torn shadow

Dwelling into your perfectionism

dismantles your steel cage

Slowly your wishes become true

Your actions speak a thousand poems

than the words you spoke alive

A living ghost I am no more—

I’ll breathe for me and you

Laugh for me and you, love for me and you

But still, I want to hold you tight,

my anchor in the fog

B.M. – Non italics parts

K.A – Italic Part

Collaboration of Braeden Michaels & Kindra M. Austin


I enjoyed collaborating with Kindra. It was easy. Her writing is real, raw, and honest to the core. Check out her blog.

Your deepest scars

don’t define who you are

Your deepest scars

walk away from the sunset

Your deepest scars

don’t stare into the light

Your deepest scars

hide behind the plum tree

Your deepest scars

don’t scream at the rage

Your deepest scars

have burnt everlasting edges

Your deepest scars

don’t speak in front of millions

Your deepest scars

never fade in the chapter

Your deepest scars

don’t disappear in the journey

Your deepest scars

shape your colorful soul

Your deepest scars

make you gorgeous

Injecting balladry

like it’s a antiseptic

Using your tiny

carry on thesaurus

to captivate the innocent

Swallowing cups of caffeine

to fill a concave

wretched black heart

Drunken saliva dripping

down your male oversized chin

Sunken and carved out

slurping the Devil’s wine

Casting judgement

from an empty phantom

A mindless hippocrate

Not realizing you are

an uneducated stalker

Condescending aficionado
speaks from a barbaric abyss
Staking claims and forecasts
reeking of gin and vermouth

He paws
He claws
Relentless and crude

Staring at her fishnet stalkings
waiting for her lipstick stains
delicious Coca Cola bottle curves
Inhaling her wicked scent

He probes
He pushes
Distasteful and off putting

Sucking in helium and lithium
personality rising higher than balloons
Viewing others as outcasts
engaging as a insidious vulture

He commands
He yells
Unforgiving and selfish

Demanding perverse declarations
Instilling superficial values
She crawls away from the blood hound
gazing at the sign of bittersweet crossroads

She kicks
She cries
Embracing the freedom

Clarity settles around my ankles

Shackles tightly circling my wrists

A opaque warrant for the end

In arial font harshly awakens

crawling dismembered spiders

around my distant coffin

No eulogy or words will be spoken

Just an empty room of formalities

Guests sitting out of obligation

As time passes as I’m alive

Leave me in the closet with

the laughing faded skeleton

Playing chess with my demons

No tears for the desolate child within

Walk away from my numb ghost

Shaking hands with apathy

Disheartened by those who make

false claims and promises

Leave me abandoned in the dusk


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Gliding across broken glass

In her eighteenth century garb

Dragging hot coals

Igniting flames in her path

Submissive demons bow down to her

She spews her unforgivable sins

Her actions show no remorse

She sharpens her tongue for more precise slices

She pushes the almighty with an unfelt shove

Her name is sprinkled in the King James like poison fourteen times

Her wrists and ankles adorned with us breakable chains

She carefully makes her bed in the lake of fire


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Roaming the uneven concrete

like a slobbering bloodhound

A vagabond meandering

through a decorated parade

Mischievous and unorthodox

Offensive and crude

Admittance of displacement

A lurking deadly reptile

Preaching to be resentful

Disfigure emotionally of others

A rancid phlegm among millions

The sauntering antichrist

Writing with a light shade of pink

Paragraphs of wit and charm

Hallucinations of bitter love

Caught up in unknown webs

Burying summer flings and

hypnotic one night stands

Self inflicted wounds never sewn

The bookmark never leaves

this etched and engraved page

It’s the single page that altered

her perception of love and self

You gave me

a ray of sunshine to view humanity

You gave me

the glue to put my shell together

You gave me

a hand to hold the weight on my shoulders

You gave me

dripping sincerity and truth

You gave me

the candle to hold the endangered flame

You gave me

a sense of puzzling wonder

You gave me

a band aid to disguise the pain

You gave me

a cold cloth to cleanse the self worth