dog2

Don’t be stoopid. It’s not me—

definitely you.

 

1.

Shush, now.

I know

break-ups are rough. Tough like

 

Rawhide.

Ever watch a dog chew on processed cow skin?

That shit’s indigestible; causes intestinal

swelling and diarrhea, etcetera.

 

Funny,

some relationships are (un)just

over-sized break-ups in-waiting,

glazed with meat flavoring for optimal taste.

 

2.

I used to lounge with you

outside in the summer dark.

Under the stars,

we’d swig bottles of Miller Lite

and inhale Marlboro tobacco;

two Alphas trying

to cancel each other out.

 

3.

Shush.

That’s a goddamned lie.

I

never had int’rest

in your use-less

competition.

Now you howl by yourself,

wondering

who will clean up your vomit.

 

It’s not me—

definitely you.

 

© Kindra M. Austin

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Saw your face today at the supermarket;

you watched me under the counter and

over the mustard

potato salad.

Oh! How far you’ve come;

I should say thanks for spitting down my throat.

Thanks for the lies, babe;

for nothing is truer than venom.

You never did have the intention of making me an

honest woman.

It’s been years, but still you burn me;

my reputation smolders,

and I see the smoke in their eyes.

 

I’ve been forgiven, but not forgotten.

 

I hate you,

but I’ll take a half pound of your pastrami.

 

© Kindra M. Austin

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I had a boyfriend, once,

an artist—

he introduced me to Ray LaMontagne

and Wilco…

he worked at Disney for a while, or so he said.

 

He was an artist, and I was a writer, and

the two of us smashed together.

 

If you read this, Tyler Aaron Travis,

(a name I will remember for forever)

I want to thank you for saying

I’m the best indie writer you’ve ever known.

                                         

And I will never forget our first date at the

Arbor Brewing Company.

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When will I find the one?

That’s what people wandering wonder;

they worry over love, and finding their soulmate,

never considering that

we are capable of loving many

over a lifetime, and

sometimes

all at once.

 

My heart is full to swelling,

and I wish it wasn’t

because it makes it

harder to be true to the one that

I want to be the one

 

The one

I see myself bound to for eternity.

 

© Kindra M. Austin

 

(image: Pinterest)

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Pluck me a melody from the sinews of your heart—

be mine

own Orpheus; private poet,

sing me your soul.

Tell me you’ll give me adoration, heavy—

more than mine arms can carry,

plus.

 

I promise I will dance for you like

Eurydice,

cherished wife.

 

I promise I will strip for you like

prostitutes do,

but for the low, low price of

one true sweetheart.

 

Pluck me a melody from the sinews of your heart

when I wake up bathing

in mine

own vomit, cos I gone and done it

again—

got stupid

over the love of a lyre.

 

© Kindra M. Austin

 

(image: Wikipedia)

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Their need is visceral. Oh!

Pretty blonde girl,

fresh trailer park trash,

junkyard dogs snarl and quarrel over your flesh—

tongues wag to get at your bones.

Twelve years old, and

your marrow is aromatic.

 

Mother’s a full-time drunk, and you

only got a part-time daddy.

 

Good luck, babe;

welcome to Contaminated Manor.

Find your place in the Court somehow

without

letting them taste you.

 

© Kindra M. Austin

 

(image: Pinterest)

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I know,

I know,

I’m such a drag—

sucks you

cannot have me as you like.

 

Menthol ciggie makes my mouth pertty

dirty, but the

whiskey makes my tongue taste like

Sunday morning

sex.

Are you really so disgusted, or just

pissed I make you

flex?

 

So I’m not Lady-like.

I’m Woman-like. And

you’re a fucking drag,

like.

 

Such a fucking drag—

sucks you

cannot have me.

 

© Kindra M. Austin

(image: Pinterest)

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I’m cruel—

too cool for school.

I don’t even want your lunch money—

happy to beat you up for free.

Besides, your heart has always been

nourishment enough for me.

Slice through the muscle like

you’re carving rare beef, and

serve it on the bone china I’d fashioned from your rib cage.

 

I’m sorry I think

when I drink

too much.

 

(image: Pinterest)

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Cleanse me in stardust,

And I might apprehend love,

Cosmically;

For I’ve been shipwrecked,

Cataclysmically—

Marooned inside of mine

(K.M.A.)

 

Love screams behind

Clenched teeth

Just out of reach

Swallowed by time

Solitary supernova

Catastrophically

Unaccompanied

(1Wise-Woman)

 

Claustrophobic frenzied

Heart rattles my ribcage—

A prisoner imprisoned by

Distortions of love lost to

A realm intangible

Cerebral cruelty

(K.M.A.)

 

Calamitous heartbreak

Emaciated emotion

A last plea

Romancing the edge of mercy

Waves wash over me

Exhorting

Gracious galaxy

Essential escape

(1Wise-Woman)

 

Deserted, I lay in the sand and

Look up to the heavens

See the bright, desolate beauty—

Silver blue dots printed upon the black

My jailer knows no more bounds than my sorrow

(K.M.A.)

 

Saline azure sky

Corona Borealis and

Moons melancholy malice

Torments this love torn tabernacle

On the precipice of redemption

Before night is done

Echo gods call with

Shooting star shattering shackles

(1Wise-Woman)

 

Selene, Titan deity—

Mother Moon, usher of diamond dust

I am cleansed

(K.M.A.)

 

Love, a winged steed

Lighting the way

I am freed

(1Wise-Woman)

 

image: Tumblr

 

Thank you, 1Wise-Woman, for writing with me.

I’m so honored to know you, and to call you a

Warrior Sister of mine.

You truly touch my heart.