I would much rather be studying
where you move your hands
and how you will kiss me next.
It's hard to concentrate on the different conjugations
of the verb querer,
when all I really want is your couch
with the torn up leather
and the small tables
and drizzle on the windows.
So come save me from the textbooks,
crawl into my body and unwrap my soul
until I can remember what your name tastes like.

I don't need you
     (So why does this sweater still smell like you?).
I don't need you
     (So why do I walk the long way home?).
I don't need you
     (So why do I stall whenever I'm at the bottom of the hill?).
I don't need you
     (So why is your favorite song in my search?).
I don't need you
     (So why do I keep staying up late?).
I don't need you
     (So why is my phone on loud?).
I don't need you
     (So why do I keep looking at the door?).
I don't need you
     (So why do I have to keep reassuring myself?).
I don't **need you.

you see, i've developed the front of a sheep and mind of a wolf
and concaved into myself like an irregular polygon because of the
people who roughly handled me like a last resort, never to fit in
and always to be confronted with my imperfections. these hands
are midas's opposites, converting beauty into the beast, scavenging
the bone marrow of others to keep me alive. the wall i've built up
makes the wall of china look like a scaled down model, because
the difference between jail and my ribcage is absolutely nothing.
they come hand in hand like best friends and i wish to drown the
sorrows building up in my chest with a tsunami with metaphors
that speaks of safehouses where people exist, not annihilation.

- kra