musical notes float through the air almost visible to sleep deprived eyes razor edged lyrics chosen for their bite sharp enough to penetrate ancient scar tissue that crisscrosses internal contours for every baby step forward there are two slides backwards to the place where psyche becomes blank canvas and I paint the nightmare landscapes of … Continue reading My Hit Parade – Christine E. Ray
my image splinters in the mirror as distance grows between surface smooth and inner truth where sharp rocks agitate in the acid bath of my gut my legs now a pale canvas for phantom scratches and bruises left by the coarse tree branch they dangle from as I sit sentinel over the abyss jaw locked … Continue reading Dangling – Christine E. Ray
I peel paper, yellow— jaundice skin, is it mine? I sit inside myself. I am a room with a view, but I peel paper to pass the time. My bones make for odd furniture, so I pace the floor and stare at faces mutely creeping through my walls. The space is violently silent, and I … Continue reading I Peel Paper – Kindra M. Austin
the heart of my madness beats wildly beneath polished glass its feathered limbs twisting turning frantically a living thing fighting desperately to be free it is both monstrous and achingly beautiful as it contorts onyx and plum catching the light before it shifts midnight and crimson it is pitiable as it throws itself again and … Continue reading The Bell Jar – Christine E. Ray
the streets run red with the blood of innocents deemed acceptable collateral damage in an uncivil war where corporations and fetuses enjoy more rights more protections than living children who remain caught in the crosshairs their transparent packs carried on slight shoulders heavy with the weight of our future stains from the latest massacre scrubbed from … Continue reading The Madness of Crowds (Parkland, February 14, 2018)
the heart of my madness beats wildly beneath polished glass its feathered limbs twisting turning frantically a living thing fighting desperately to be free it is both monstrous and achingly beautiful as it contorts onyx and plum catching the light before it shifts midnight and crimson it is pitiable as it throws itself again and … Continue reading The Bell Jar – Christine E. Ray
Brave & Reckless 