
People
Yourself

Unfelt

Two Headed Monster

Blank Paper

Tears and Sadness

The End of Conversation

Defining Moments #2

I am only home for Thanksgiving and Christmas. I moved away for a job and it’s been a journey since then. When I met my family my brother pointed something out that made him teary eyed. There were names of deceased family members on the tables. I saw my aunts name, my mothers, grandfathers, grandmothers, and my cousin. I looked around the room as tears fell from my eyes. My brother saw me and hugged me. Although we are very different in many aspects we are the same. We moved over to the corner of the room and told me how our mom would be so proud of me. In his own words he actually expressed how much he loved me and missed me. This is something he would do when he was drunk. He didn’t have an ounce of alcohol in him. Naturally I cried as he spoke. I saw my brother in a different light. A part of me moved away for a job and part of me moved away from my family. In my eyes, growing up and still today I feel misunderstood. I want to unravel all the feelings we all feel in my writing. I want to write from different perspectives. I told my brother the other day I have three published books. In my head I spend my time writing wanting to leave something behind, my legacy. Perhaps on the blog this is where I am understood. But my brother for once understood me. He could see parts of me that are broken. He could see why I write from other perspectives. It’s easier for me to write from other points of view because I have some pieces I don’t want to look at. He could clearly see I just didn’t move away for a job.
Vintage Ink

A classic vantage
Perceptions gauzed in antiques
Edges of photographs crinkle
Rustic but euphoric
Art history in sight
Words written from thick blood
Deep appreciation of jazz
Grasping the top notch pen
Refined and elegant
Dressed in sophistication
Adoring her exquisite tongue
Artistic in the hurricane soul
Tasting the vintage ink
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Hollow Chill

I wallow in the paraphrases and the ick of December. Wintery trees remind me of childhood and what use to be. Today the misery and solitude linger in the brisk air. I no longer grasp and hold onto affection. I took a walk and could see my reflection in the mangled trees. Branches scattered like my frozen thoughts. I stand still as depression settles deeper. No one wants to stand from my perspective. I despise the winter and hollow chill. No one cares. I use to crave to feel. I stare into the paragraphs and emptiness flows. No one cares. I don’t ask why I am alive. I ask when will you take me out of my misery?
Unhappiness is a Copper Bullet

I’ve offered you a ship and you offer me a canoe
I’ve offered you a dozen roses and you offer me a dandelion
Sadness is a trigger
I’ve offered you a plate of everything and you offer me a morsel
I’ve offered you a road and you offer me a unpaved narrow path
Sadness is a trigger
I’ve offered you a tree of gold and you offer me a stained branch
I’ve offered you a notebook and you offer me a page
Sadness is a trigger
I’ve offered you barrel of ink and you offer me a ballpoint pen
When I’m gone my written words will say it all
Numb Prayers

Foolish and dumb I crumble
Stuck in a wrecking atmosphere
Drifting out of consciousness
Wishes fall beneath my feet
I can’t move
A jolt of discomfort shatters within
Starring at discolored fragments
Crying romance bellows forgiveness
Dropping rights and wrongs
I can’t move
Dying to be understood in tired eyes
All I absorb are tears and rain
wearing a chain of animosity
through a howling river
I can’t move anymore
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Comatose

I’m alone and sleeping in the cavern
I’m alone and sleeping in the gloom
And never do I cry
I’m alone and sleeping in the dusk
I’m alone and sleeping in the morning
And never do I bleed
I’m alone and sleeping in the twilight
I’m alone and sleeping in my coffin
And never do I pray
I’m alone and sleeping in the screams
I’m alone and sleeping in the silence
And never do I laugh
I’m alone and sleeping in the scars
I’m alone and sleeping in the obscurity
And never do I change
Happy Thanksgiving!

Today isn’t just a day to eat tons of food and be off from work. It’s a day to be thankful for so much. The sun, stars, air, family, friends and so much more. Thank you all for reading my work and purchasing my books. I am thankful to have met some great people on here.
Piss and Vinegar (Collaboration w/ Kindra M. Austin)
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,
bitter
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
Erratic Introspection

Inhaling a killer drug
Exhilaration tripped in a dumpster
Walking through glee in galoshes
Disgust flying like a bumble bee
Stuck in a repeating nightmare
Gloom stalks like a predator
A revolver full of hatred
Like a hammer slamming the nail
Reckless directions
A mind of inconsistencies
Tons of Shrapnel

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
Open for Discussion

From bulldozing politics to
southern recipes
words glide
From the center of art history
to eye opening philosophy
words fly
From the core of love to
carburetors and steering wheels
words run
From the backbone of religion to
Roman orgies
words soar
From ancient reptiles to the
evolution of medicine
words are accented
From inward passions to the
hatred of war
words are like light
From the corner of your fears to
the offensive jokes
words scatter
Our universe is open for discussion
Indifference Road

Destroyed trust smeared on shingles
Ruins spread out over the dismantled carpet
Locked up gates surrounding decrepit doors
Components of ancient clocks in disgust
Splinters in necks of apathetic voices
Arms folding like a hand of cards
Negligence lingers in the crisp air
Carelessness hobbling on a narrow path
Monotony standing tall and shrewd
Incuriosity bounces like a dodgeball
Separation is coughed up like phlegm
Alienation is the divine appetite
Four mile road of still emptiness
Unfortunately many reside in a glance of reality
Boxing Sessions

A thousand mile per hour shove
Galant jab to the head
Like a heavyweight boxer
A face plant with spit to the floor
Pummeled by deception
Belted by the winds of lust
Aggression rises like a wave
An undercut to the ribs
Bombarded with questions
Chopped down with a sharp ax
Blasted by the electric shock
Beaten by a power house
A crack with a whip
Bitten by her savage guts
Tossed around like a rag doll
A defense shattered from the word go
Dominated like a slave
Articulate and clever
Owned by a blood sucking wench
Standing before rules and regulations
Slowly out growing demands
Up against the tightrope
Released a blow to the throat
Standing against the walls of reality
No longer living in fear
Arms raised in victory
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