Introducing 1Wise-Woman – ‘Purge’

Every moment is a little bit of forever
Futile when you are perpetually
Deprived of pleasure
Like a slap in the face
Such a beautiful glow
Ebb and flow
Stay or go
Hammer and nail
Reach for the top shelf
My invitation got lost in the mail
Feelings aren’t allowed
Small crowd
Mailbox mafia
Hurt and relieved
Dodged a bullet
Down in the dumps
Upward mobility
Forget about emotional fragility
You just can’t help it
Back stabbed and brain washed
Dressed in your finest
Special and spineless
Released your inner troll
Narcissistic mind melt
Emotions never felt
Sadists don’t know when to stop
Use me like a damaged prop
Ripe with manipulation
Vigilant about the deadly nature of desire
It’s a raging wildfire
Sky high anxiety
Rock bottom depression
Misplaced somewhere in between
Yet to be seen

You are a runaway train with nothing to gain, inflicting pain and placing blame, what a shame. Calling everyone else insane, why can’t you say my name? Are you afraid I’ll get all the fame and you will never be able to tame my insatiable hunger to unchain from your radioactive restrain?

Story basher without a name
Dressed in guru garb
Feigned ferocity and faith
Cross the line
Tell you I’m fine
Deal breaker
Toy with god’s creations
Depraved recreation
Crumpled paper says it all
Lifeless on the floor
Screaming truth
As you walk out the door
Original copy
Conditional cult
Go ahead and drink your wine
It doesn’t stop time
Dig me out
Of this static state
I won’t take the bait
Breathing in
Bleeding out
Get off the ledge
Fake people
Fake life
Fake news

Find me submerged
In chartreuse
Sated by a honey dripping sunset
Forever in the moment
Silently sublime


[1Wise-Woman: “I am living, fighting, and thriving with mental illness and chronic disease and a need to express myself. Writing eases some of the weight I carry.” When she isn’t yanking shadowy strands of leathery clumps of unconscious, and tenderly placing them into word documents, she is creating at A Lion Sleeps in the Heart of the Brave.]





The Archer and The Scorpion: Introducing Kindra M. Austin:

I found a photo of us, eight years old, stored in my ‘sent messages.’ We’re sat at Tokyo smoking a cigarillo, looking utterly chuffed with ourselves. I thought I had destroyed all evidence of the Archer and the Scorpion union. Goddamn, darling, we made a fucking stunning couple when we stepped out dressed in gangster black, and with a dirty day drink buzz-on. But we were stunninger in the dark, when you worshipped at Church of Me; your platform bed served well as altar. 2 a.m. moon soaked Liturgy, my sweet heathen, you were no atheist sheathed in my silk.



[Kindra M. Austin is an author (information on her book can be found here), artist, and contributing editor and writer for The Bridge Magazine, as well as a fucking valkyrie Sagittarius. She can be found filing through the souls of the slain at poems and paragraphs.]