It was kindness
That wore the heart
Only to leave it resembling
a tombstone swathed in ice
A certain kind of profound weariness
That made the blood that flowed within, congeal

Old Norn laughing slips a brand new thread
against a scissor blade I present my throat
Goodbye just follow the blood trail
Soon I will be warm deaf to the tone
Of your voice echoing in dark chambers
Blind no longer beguiled
By the pale white flesh of your shoulders

nobody warned me that people came without seatbelts.
nobody warned me about the aftermath, where a sharp
turn can land you straight on your back, and i've been
on my back too many times to count on two hands.
2. create an escape to a world where you are the conductor
of the train, you hold the reins to the horse, you have the
controls to the carousels so you control your heart.
3. everyday is holding a bouquet of roses and jumping
out in front of traffic going seventy because i killed myself
alive. who knew that one person can make you pick apart
yourself until you really don't know who you are anymore?
4. the way you shifted from heartfelt promises to throwing
every single obscenity at me reminds me of how i shifted
from lukewarm coffee to burn my throat hot coffee.
5. you're thick on the air and i can hardly breathe.
6. i claw at my skin, insecure about how i've become,
knowing i've changed because of the anxiety you give me.
7. cows are branded to show ownership, and i feel like
you poked me with a white-hot branding iron without
remorse. i manage to push through each day.
8. the confidence i used to have in myself deteriorated over
the years. it feels like i'm standing in a choir singing the loudest
and my voice is slowly fading into all the other voices and losing
harmony until even i cannot understand what i'm singing.
9. i'm still so embarrassed that i held on to something that
has no intentions of staying for so long. i'm sorry i held on
so tightly where i was constricting you, you needed air.
10. i cannot go another day without you, yet i want to go
every day without hearing your name or seeing your face.

- kra

we can't sing so much, but alive we deaden somber with aplomb.
we are remorse and ripe plums. tap roots fastened to air kisses and laudanum.
we congeal in our own ' thud '. a slow bomb coughing the alphabet's are off -
with our high noon lows; depleted aloft. we are One -
in the chamber of succinct
loss.

we carry on. drudging up the hillocks of our Pandemonious Love.

blurting the wrong devout; conjoined to the rip in our seamless joust
adjusting the rudiments of our lathe of fresh hell; to accommodate the actual constant
of our hateful esteem. the very same accursed of our mutual louse...
doubting the excellent **** of our divine Without.
we covet the reign seeds
of Love's Drought.

and as plausible honey
we comb tangles
into sunrays

out loud.

before the world ends
begin.

that you may not love
is the haunting.

where your ghost is rain
your mind clouds.

and nothing is foreseen
like the past.

II

in the long watch of this blindness
we are surely rogue begonias
needling the impenetrable nethers
of our low coronas
we jest in the rage of our humors
gilding the uvula
of our golden throats
trilling in the infinite sublime
and gain no quarter
note.

unabridged, we straddle the span
of our chasm.

and there,
we seek to stand apart
from whatever wounds
we fathom.

if the brand new day is more elsewhen
than the right now...
find your joy
and jump for it
when the Earth is more small
than the gravity.
when the simple thing
is more gone
than an apparent dream
slumbering
where the caste is a husk
of no thinking.

drink fear and be done with it.
sour your oats
and bring the sea to your fathoms.
be one with the ghost
of your mad madness .

be glad at your march
into rude sadness.

be one with your never
as completely
as you dive

darkly. as
ever.

As Ever.