the quietest words are the loudest
      knowledge and open eyes to the real world
                           through prose i speak and speak alone
                                           nobody encouraged me to be outspoken
                                                       ­   i was a shut-in, trapped for months
                                                          ­   like anne frank, with only power in writing
                                                         ­            i found power in words, nobody taught me
                                                                ­                   how to live, but i learned how to exist in
                                                              ­                 a world lost in it's sin, a mediocre society
                                                         ­                lost in it's power of indulgences and faith
                                                           ­        with paper and pen, i can capture honesty
                                                    the most brutal tragedy, the most beautiful love
                                      i've never felt intense fear, like hanging off a cliff fear
                               but i've been pushed to that cliff one too many times
                     i've always been scared of heights and losing someone
               but my fears are all in my head, my heart is power
         my heart is courage, my heart is love
it is the first and last thing i have

- kra

three words and eight letters fell in between the cracks
of your fingers like sand, not even realizing you were holding
my heart somewhere in there as it conjoined with the earth
my stem grew sixteen feet in all directions and grew sixteen feet
tall, with branches that holds photographs of memories i've
forgotten about already, like waters that don't cease with
waves that drag you under like hands at your ankles
but people don't drag you down, our past drags us down
the darkness isn't full of nightmares but it's not so clean either
we were not careful enough, i thought we couldn't sink in dangerous
water but the past dragged you down the depths and shallows of it's
cold grotto. i wish i had a sixth sense perception, become a wallflower,
a housefly, eyes watching from the very corners of their eyes, visible
enough to remind you, i exist. i am very real and i am finally starting
to shake off the waves and grime and shout through my words.

- kra

what if the pen was the scalpel, ripping our chest open with flowers sprouting out haphazardly
what if we had the sun running through our veins, and night time made us temporarily unconscious
our bodies react as the paper, you let a stranger take a pen to you trusting them not to shred the floral
when one of the magnolias, gardenias, or chrysanthemums are cut, the rest all fall like dominoes
and the sunlight scatters like mice into new hosts as you spiral downward into unconsciousness
the secret of how i flourished through drought was my optimism and faith in others who failed me
the science of how i got through these psychological traumatic experiences were questionable
the seconds i've spent thinking about it have been seconds wasted forgetting about my future
i don't trust the time, i'm always caught observing the clock making sure that it ticks
maybe i don't believe in it's mechanics, it's acute accuracy, or it's clockwise spin
it's the numbers i don't trust, i'm certain of it, we're all made of numbers
we're all seconds, hours, days, months, and years counting down

- kra

i don't believe in the hypocritical moralistic dogma of this so-called civilized society
everyone is finicky, demanding, and ignorant, like society runs on their selfish need
humanity is unhealthy, diseased, deceived by the smoke and mirrors of propriety
starving poets living off their art, starving celebrities living off their titanic sized greed
and people wonder why we have criminals who will do anything to get away with crime
if everyone saw the real side of people, trust would be another delusional superstition
guilt is like spiders crawling onto your naked skin and onto your famished spine
some people believe they are the bricks to rebuild a home with ammunition
we are force fed trust in these strangers in a extremely vulnerable habitat
like a bird's feathers clipped off, we are unable to fly, unable to breathe
like an army without weapons, we are unprepared for the sudden combat
like a witches cauldron, the brain's contents bubble and seethe

-kra

the first law of thermodynamics speaks: energy cannot be created nor destroyed
hypothetically, there must be some type of energy created between two people
though this winter has lasted a few years, natural vagabonds are asunder, seeking warmth
for years, we were condemned to search for that other half of us to keep us alive
we want someone who will grab our shoulders at the edge of a steep cliff
we want someone who will appreciate the small things, like drinking tea together
if our atoms bisect and travel alone someday, i want to know i felt that fear of love
that loss is the kindest of suicides, it empties the entrails which scatters through the walls
and the ribcage grows a garden of dead plants and a unlimited drought occurs
god knows when the clock will stop ticking in my chest and my soul goes west

-kra

in my dreams, I found your voice whispering my name
it was so quiet, just like you, throwing your secrets in the grave
silent euphoria covering the tension in my muscles and veins
releasing the strenuous stress, but my blood still runs white
white sunlight running through me and my thoughts run to you
it's like an natural instinct, a second skin, a cause to the effect
you peer into my windows and the realization why was a slap in the face
ironic because I fell into the same guilty pleasure that you did
your spring and summer lasted me a few years, but winter came
love hibernated back into it's cave, built it's castle and lava moat
haphazardly scattered ghost starve in the back of an abandoned alley
looking for a map out of this godforsaken eath but they can't leave
not without a sign pointing them in the right direction, but i always turn left
it's like we were related by blood, but our blood learned to squander
my fingertips shake violently, do you realize how badly i need you
anxiety was taking every inch of my body and collapsing my lungs
i'm searching for a needle in a haystack and it's been found already
i'm looking for a key to the locked door but my hands are empty
i'm peering through an opening to find any source of hope for us
and i come up empty every single time.

-kra

as an astronaut, I spun on a rotary around the core of your existence like
you were the gravity that held me to the ground but kept me on my toes
if home is where the heart is, i'm coping with this unbearable homesickness
and I know my heart has an anarchy government, living a steel toed rebellion
but these relentless thoughts about you have gotten bad again, i don't sleep
my reckless behavior let loose, like a dog off his chain and collar and i
revisited the places you always talked about, how i dreamed to be there
with you recovering those lost feelings, and rebellion was assisting me
in the mind of my teenage angst, no autobiographies could be more
authentic than the hatred for this unrequited swelling i held in my heart
without a doubt, you're featured in my dreams more than nightmares
you couldn't be more real than the books that I hold in my hands
i'm sleeping in water filled with sharks calling me a tedious terrorist
entering their territory, leaving me with absolutely nothing
just build a bridge, get over it, if you have to, revisit my mind
maybe you'll see everyone is the enemy, not everyone is perfect

-kra