Shadows loom in the dark
What were you thinking?
No voice, coughs coughs
Never seems too good
Maybe not that bad either
Mind's such a whirlwind
in the dark
dark
dark
Sometimes, I just wish I could ask,
Penny for your thoughts?

around revolving world
smack in the middle
sits a me
who longs to be out there
revolving around and with that world

:)

truthfully
to say
society *****.
imperfect individuals harping on the fact
that their kids grow up and mature
to the idea of perfection
and these kids
become the perfect type of imperfect individuals
each generation to sing the same type of
the perfection song.
sing to the tune, say that nobody is perfect
and they try to be perfect.
and when they reach near perfection,
when they are probably miles and miles away from it,
they preach to the song of perfection
amplify the defections of a crowd
and chaos erupts
it all becomes war and love combined
hence
society *****.

when my fingers run over the
ivory keys
my heart beats
feel the staccato
riding over the little black sharps and flats
pounding pounding
little scared
fear fear
trembles trembles
in what music shall come
to the beating of the heart
the listening of the ear
what is there to come

1.  you are not shrapnel from a car crash. you are not
   your own destruction. you will be born again.
   2. this is an endless labyrinth of running into walls
    and thinking i know the way, when i have no clue
    what i'm getting into and where i am going.
    3. don't compare me to a meteor - slowly drifting
    away from everything you have ever known about
   me - because i am the same person. you changed.
   4. if your mirror is showing you a monster, you
   need to find any way to break that mirror.
   5. i never understood nirvana until you came into my life,
    yet i've never understood hell's scorch until you
    blatantly left without a proper goodbye.
    6. i will unleash the worst types of hell onto you.
    7. the only difference between fractals and the way
    you treat people is that you are no snowflake.
    8. if you were a mailbox, i would take out all of the
    flowers and constant reminders that i love you.
    9. i'm having problems eating. it's a constant reminder
    of how you told me about your favorite cereal is now a
    cereal i don't have the stomach to bring to my mouth.
   10. don't get yourself tangled in knots you cannot undo
    because you will be stuck trying to untie the knots by
    yourself.

    - kra

How
many
people
Am I?!

March comes like a punching bag

March will bring her smiles like plastic bags
Some tear some don’t
You never know when she will glare her teeth like razorblades and bleed the snow
from underneath these fingertips.
Leave my insulation soaked, me; feverish.
And the joke is, I saw this coming
shivering the melted ice out of me she
bares her grin like a warning sign,
and I was either too brave or dumb enough to step inside
like a welcome mat made out of ice
and a cartoon dog
A scared pitbull, and a woman in charge.
The joke is that haha
There is no joke, you walked in.,
and made one out of yourself.
Out of the frost on your eyelashes and grief on your fingernails.
haha get it,
sweat her out like the coldest fever, without dying of shock.
Get it now?
She brings back the taste of firewood and comfort of flames when you needed it the most
Punches like the best punchline
hard enough to make it hurt
not hard enough to make you forget
hahaha
Knocks the wind out of you.

Know it all in theory never practiced
Waddles and quacks
Assumptions under false pretenses
Opinions often criticize
Judgments without a clue
Senseless chatter
Assless pants
Years behind
Broken spirits
Wavering faith
What is proof?
Wasted life and selfish acts
Yeah, what do you know?

I watched my father from a distance
Being mauled by a bear
And even from this far away
In his eyes i could see fear
Pure ******* fear

I listened to lucy tell me
The worst thing Ive ever heard
About how 2 men grabbed and  ***** her
Is that worse than being mauled?

I do not know
But i guess they mustve screamed
So loudly into the distance
She was only thirteen

Only thirteen
And I was twelve at the time
I asked her if it hurt
I should’ve known better
Instead I made it worse

I met Daniel at a party
He showed me his scars
He said his father shot himself
So he decorates his arms

And monica paints pictures
Of skies so beautifully blue
Though she herself is dying
Just skin and bones and truth

I asked her if she found it
In all the painting’s she created
Did you find Daniels father?
Was he cremated?
Did you find Lucy’s innocence?
Unburdened her of her shame?
Can your paintbrush do that?
Can it make you sane?

What about my mother
Does she have a say
Can she ever get back
What was lost that day?

Can you paint my eyes
So they un-see what was seen
Can you paint the sounds
Of Lucy's silent screams
Can you paint Daniels arms
Make the scar's disappear?
Can a ******* painting
Ever make things all clear?