like backpedaling on a bicycle, after getting my bags and
burning the rest of the kisses you stole from me, you ran
back into me, making my life chaos and showing this ridiculous
front you painted on your face like clown makeup smiling
effortlessly acting like i didn't bleed you out of my veins, like
i didn't train my heart to swear under an oath not to paint you
back into my picture, maybe you know what i'm talking about,
nothing is perfectly in order for me and the tables turn before
i get a chance to come to a realization that the traction between
us is like fingers against a chalkboard, it's back and forth constant
fear of these red strings i can't seem to cut with my safety
scissors as fingers and i am a small miniscule vessel at war with
this violent storm mother nature sheds onto me, coloring
me in blue and black war paint but i will fight back this time
and i will not teeter on the edge and prevent biting my tongue


- kra

people's eyes are like constellations, wherever you go
they will be there during sunlight and sundown,
picking out flaws like they pick out food on menus
finding the crack in the liberty bell, finding Venus de
Milo’s lack of arms, like flowers, we wilt without
rain, and we are so ashamed of being imperfect,
but why do we run from the rain? can we not accept
reality and believe fantasy is a much more powerful
sense of comfort than believe in the bizarre judgement
the earth has provided for us, the most grandeur
hearts are the heavily scarred and bruised, because
what are we without our flaws? we aren't boring.

- kra

my jewels bestowed onto me are hanging from my dead limbs like a noose,
but due to my inferior intellect, these delusional gods will bring me to hell's gates
for the world's stigma on my definition of jewels has a red stamp with
the words WARNING on it, my dull inane shadow cannot compare
to the hundreds suffering in the same recession i am, mouths are speaking
to me, but my ears aren't listening, like once the repeated record from you
plays, a sound proof room surrounds the vicinity and intrudes the space
between you and me, my body is not translucent, i was carved out of
marble but vines and weeds entangled my crevices and made me grotesque
this dystopia people are telling me about that i live in is a utopia to myself
i'm near the condition of declining into a whirlwind of nothing and i'm fine
with it, as long as Holden Caulfield catches me when I fall into the rye alone

- kra

i'm two traits converged into one messy finger painted paradox
a disposition to do good, but i have maleficent intentions set in
stone, my mind shows me how i look in the mirror but the threads
of my body are like looking through a window, then again, who isn't
wondering about the reality other people hide like a facade, cleverly
subdued and sinking me in cold water until the ice is all i've ever known
love is a difficult topographic setup, unable to be evened out
inconsistant roads and treasonous dead ends bother me because
it's potential to break my interior and exterior, but what do i
matter? sticks and stones don't bother me, it's the words that
break my bones and assist my architecture i carefully built
along with my empire built from my bare hands to tumble
haphazardly out of my reach, pulling these weights along my
feet for some type of hope that things will finally become clear

- kra

these chandeliers were home to roses, now fallen petals on this abandoned courtyard
short handed late traced steps and short lived excitement, we are concentric beings
filled with the same steadfast frame of mind, brick by unnerving bricks tower over
burnt down villages, this love found in fairytales doesn't truly exist in real life
there's a hot wired circuit around my blighted mind, suffering from dementia,
or was the diagnosis faith in this fantasy world i created with vivid metaphors
and words i cannot pronounce, just to get across the fact that i believe in this type
of coping mechanism, that this silence is the most clearest my mind's ever been
at the lowest level of the food chain is where i sit, waiting to be swallowed
and spit out into a world with the core being torrid obsidian matching the
color of the asphalt where i once laid and the color of people's hearts
i've met over the years, serendipity is nonexistant just like chivalry
although i really wish there was such a thing as chivalry in real life

- kra

using stalagmite icycles as tooth picks in between the crevices of my head
my brain is getting frostbite as if i ate too much ice cream at once, but this
sporadic heartbeat is going into myocardial infarction, and all at once, every
second goes into slow motion, a familiar stillness before the blast of powerful
dynamite, bats living inside me are vexatious inside my head, like a parasite,
you weren't even noticed until you completely wracked my helpless body
with worms and ticks, leaving me with some sense of how a sick dog feels,
a walking contradiction and an anti-compressive depression that leaves me
with nothing. you're a sea that keeps on growing, a forest that keeps on burning
and a fire that is everlasting and almost behemoth, i'm helpless

- kra

art is bisected into three categories
and other subcategories
painting & drawing
poetry & literature
music & dancing
i happened to become an
martyr to poetry, logolept
and framed masterpieces
not written down on paper
kept inside of wires attached
to my brain, smoldering my
grey matter and my feelings
melting like candles, slowly
but urgently sweating out
unspoken power and ungodly
overwhelming thoughts need
to be shared, but only show
your passion to someone
worth writing about who
is just as complex as you are

- kra