You Were Meant to Know the Night Writing Prompt Challenge: Meant For Moonlight/Kindra M. Austin

My Submission to the Brave and Reckless October writing prompt challenge, “You Were Meant to Know the Night.”

Brave and Reckless

Moonlight, ethereal

casts your shadow—flings you up

against tall buildings; stretches your limbs

across sleeping streets. Alien in your own skin,

contemplate conundrums plaguing the races.

You were meant to know the night.

You were meant to count the

stars, and give them all


Travel in Sonata

formula, meant to

know the solitude of


when Heaven is

 alive silvery

 blue pressed into

black, and

your inner voices

speak the



are a writer—

mother of children,

maker of gods, and

creator of worlds.

You were meant

to speak your

truths. You

 were meant

to know the


Kindra M. Austin is a member of Sudden Denouement, a curator at Blood into Ink, and a fiction indie author. You can read her poems and prose at and find her debut novel at  (Amazon UK).

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‘Shoo, fly.’ – Collaboration – Kindra M. Austin & Samantha Lucero

A little thing written by Samantha Lucero and me. Sam is a spectacular dragon. ❤

A Forum for Divergent Literature

Fly guy—bar fly with Roman nose and sake soaked tongue buzzing in my ear; shoo fly, don’t bother me.

like a sip instead of a gulp,

the spider is on the cliff of my knee,

it spreads no further with

its unshaven jowls scratching the walls

of my mind; i remember camel turkish royals,

hard pack, you thanking me after i sucked

your dick,  

begging me to stay when i said goodbye.

men just want a woman in their bed, any one will do.

and i like pooling alone, like a puddle of rain outside,

dreaming my chaotic dreams.

You’d followed me out to the parking lot

after my Karaoke set; ‘Rolling on the River’ was my best yet.

I let you feel me up, under the bra, under lights catching bugs,

while my hands worked overtime, pulling down your drawers.

and what wet dreams may come on the upper…

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The Light Dressed in Chainmail

My latest Blood into Ink piece.

Blood Into Ink


In the middle of the night, shadows breathe;

bury your face—bite your pillow when you scream.

Don’t wake the house with your nonsense.

Terrors wear an addict’s face, and smile with her teeth;

ten thousand demons seeded in your soul.

Don’t wake the house with your nonsense.

She was never your mother; and you are not her.

You are the light dressed in chainmail—

the greatest warrior I’ve ever known.

This poem was inspired by my aunt. Aunt Denise’s birth mother had tried to abort her with a coat hanger in 1959, and after her birth, she was adopted by her aunt and uncle, whom I’ve always known as Grandma and Grandpa Carter. My beautiful, fierce aunt lived her life plagued with hatred for the woman who didn’t want her. I hope Aunt Denise is peaceful now. I miss her like mad…

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‘A BRIMFUL OF GRIM’ – Collaborative – A.G. Diedericks & Kindra M. Austin

My collab with A.G. on Sudden Denouement.

A Forum for Divergent Literature

I walk the streets, brimful of grim

a former empath, deformed

with a Stephen Hawking-sized

black hole in my chest


At night I chisel the cemetery of us

blurred visions leave my veins with an incision

I siphon the blood back into our old skeletons

reprieve my solitude


The moon is a phantasm—

a projection of you

Your cold white face casts shadows

of me against these cobblestone streets

and up the sides of Tudor buildings—

I am a colossus,

brimful of grim   


In an L.A. riot, I lie quiet

under a monochrome sun,

and listen to the unison of us—the way we were, uncanny

The earth vibrates underneath me; defibrillator, ascertain my heartbeat


Ever since you left, every woman I meet plays her part in a ménage

á trois with your mirage

Cosplay lovers;

I think you would love the homage


The sun’s…

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‘Recombinant Selves’ – A Collaborative of 11 writers

A collaborative piece on Sudden Denouement. I’m fortunate to have these opportunities to write with such outstanding creators. Thank you all.

A Forum for Divergent Literature

We inherit

The wordless cry

Of all our former

Selves (CER)

They layer themselves

upon us

ragged cloaks

of the homeless


at our heels (AP)

Dusk takes one last breath

Swallowing golden specks of us

Scattered among the detritus

No light reflects

From such depths

We are the chosen (1W-W)

We stumble against starless darkness

searching for one truth (KMA)

Layer by layer, I am revealed.

The reflection looking back at me

isn’t one I recognize.

Will there be anything

worth remembering,

when I’m gone? (SD)

Fragmented remnants

permeate our evolution

ill-fated to dissonance

a dichotomy of our

recombinant selves (AGD)

Searching for a candle in the abyss,

A hope to hold onto,

To chalk sweaty palms

Gripping a frayed rope.

tearing tender flesh,

Climbing toward salvation (JWL)

But the stars have fallen, smashed diamonds

of our shattered images, and the lost cry

who am I? In tune with…

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Mourning Song

Fifty-eight years, you were gone at fifty-seven

Fifty-eight years since the day you were born,

nearly one year since you left–coming this November

I will cry, but not no harder than I’ve already been

Grief knows no clock–

mourning does not expire

The Sun still rises, and does fall

You’re still gone

and I’m still here

Your laughter lives inside my heart–

your laughter is a song

For that, I am thankful