poetry is oft written by those who love too much too freely hearts splayed open on sterile dissection trays cool stainless pins trapping vulnerable fluttering
grief the connective tissue webbed between each bone dangles unresolved from bleached ribs marbled shreds of tissue ruffling the edges of my open chest cavity
I tell myself it is unexpected snow in tonight’s forecast Mother Nature’s cruel April Fools’ joke that makes my joints ache chills me to the
In memory of Lieselotte Porter 1925-2018 another empty chair another empty corner only resurrection assured this Easter morn are my ghosts who brokers the introductions?
unforgotten Just another day just another town bullet perforated backpacks spilling loose-leaf lined paper, textbooks onto blood stained sidewalks helicopters hovering to give us the
Find yourself at home with unexpected time on your hands? It’s a great day to read Heavy Mental, Kindra M. Austin‘s brilliant new poetry book.
who am I without my losses without my ghosts to haunt the hours? grief has carved me sharply since girlhood with rasps and chisels unforgiving
I do not have a closet full of mourning clothes I have never inked the names of my dead on my tender forearms in solemn
aching sadness feels like drifting like falling like tumbling iridescent tear drops well up phantom pain for other hearts I used to hold afloat ©