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Frisk Nov 2014
i was born to love madness
because i am madness

- kra
Frisk Oct 2014
march eleventh:
the syllables of your name are small but the
meaning means something larger than life.
greek meaning: dark beauty, like an angel
of death, you had a short fuse that could
not be contained. you were a cannon that
shot out ***** of tangled roses, the thorns
wrapping around the stems in a embrace.
march twelfth:
the ghosts of my past have gotten friendlier
and more approachable. the sunrises have
gotten faster and the moon rises slower.
the tea burns the bottom of the tea kettle,
but we blame it on the age of the ***. the
tea still ends up empty before bedtime.
march thirteen:
finishing a book at a cliffhanger is like leaving
the tea on the stove longer than it should be.
you still taste the tea, but it leaves a bitter after
taste. maybe i should omit the lemons.
march fourteenth:
your mouth was a double barreled shotgun
and the words goodbye came out like wedding
vows. you had this way to entice a crowd and
leave them with a bittersweet aftertaste, like
a walk of shame. i was the one who kept coming
back because you still taste like the fresh tea to me.

- kra
Frisk Oct 2014
i have found comedy in tragedy
and tragedy in comedy.

- kra
Frisk Sep 2014
these four chambers idle inside my ribcage
is the devil's drumset. oh, does he like the
erratic melody collapsing into weak thuds.
2. shapeshifting is new to me. as a chameleon,
i adjusted myself to your brightest ebbs and
your darkest flows and attempt to maintain
my true form. it's harder than you think.
3. the sun gave me his hands and it became
harder to hold onto you. you became the
ocean and suddenly every ocean evaporated.
all the sea creatures started dying and all i do
is leave people rubbing aloe vera on their skin.
4. every inch i get near you is getting me nowhere.
if i put down measuring tape between the gap
between us, the number of miles between us
will consistently stay the same.
5. shhh. let's be quiet so we don't wake the
monsters. let's tiptoe to somewhere quiet.
6. let's burn the evidence, let the smoke,
embers, and ashen dissipate and spread
itself out. let the ghosts be hidden in the
dead hollowed trees and splintered roots.
7. you see right through me, a window
less house groaning as the second story floor
caves into itself, without sympathy

- kra
Frisk Aug 2014
as if reduction doesn’t matter, lately i’ve
felt that this loneliness has become a curse.
2. sometimes, home feels like a fragmented
halfway home and your personal cell is your
bedroom. the bedroom walls are the only
comfort you get anymore and that’s okay.
3. untangle yourself from them. the vital stitches
does get worn and die like the very veins resting
beneath the ghostly white skin you reside in.
unhealthy habits turn into acute prisons.
4. family rests where your heart rests. remember
that adam and eve developed every single person
you met over the long course of time.
5. don’t dare to be anything but happy.  
6. when your parents eyes glaze over when you
are uncertain, don’t think you are at fault. life
did not hand you a manual stating you need to
follow the advice given to you.
7. someone who reads between the lines of
your words and knows the moment your life
is hanging on a balance is true family.
8. i'm being reduced, from my name being used
frequently in conversations down to once in a
blue moon. i'm starting to be okay with it.

- kra
Frisk Aug 2014
you flirt with winter's sharp edges instead
of the warmth of summer's blurry eyes.
2. the only thing to fear is fear itself.
3. i heard sharks could be cannibals just to
obtain food, and if they have the stomach
to swallow their infants, i have the stomach
to swallow these memories of you i miss.
4. the fish watch the birds fly out west, and
have a strong desire to ask the passengers
for a ride to leave their ostracized ocean prison.
5. neverland gave me the wrong directions.
6. the only way i can visit the stars anymore is
if i follow the sound of your voice. you make me
see ******* constellations, solar systems, something
so much more than life itself, something beautiful
that cannot be contained.
7. (of course stars die, don't you think i know that?)
8. how can i fix things that my hands don't even
need to touch to shatter? the truth is, architecture
was never something i was good at.
9. i can barely taste the salt water, but i'm a few
accidental swallows away from drowning myself
into my fear. my lungs built a pocket for fear to
live in without the buildup of water drowning me.
10. dying a ****** means i am still pure somehow, right?

- kra
haven't been writing lately because i've been depressed constantly. i've had the quote in number seven stuck in my head for quite some time now.
  Jul 2014 Frisk
elysianlethe
not the kind of pain that tickles and pokes
but the kind that knocks you back a few feet when it hits
&
rips the air out of your lungs
like the few moments of excruciating pain you feel when you stub your toe or clamp your hand between a door
it's an unexpected kind of pain
& your nerve endings can't help but become overwhelmed in pain

it's a greedy kind of love
the kind that takes and takes and TAKES
it slices you open, not enough to be fatal but just enough to bleed
&
that's all that's left for you to do,
                                                           b l e e d
this love bleeds you dry,
it takes all that is you
&
leaves nothing behind
nothing for others to identify you by
it leaves nothing for others to
                                                           s a l v a g e

it's a suffocating kind of love
like a horrible case of claustrophobia
the walls seem to be closing in
the world is getting smaller
the air is getting thinner
&
you watch for a few painful seconds as you lay there gasping for life
clawing at the walls like a trapped mouse
aware that you are dying
aware that there you are utterly helpless to stop it

a love whose purpose is to cage
not treasure
it boxes you up
&
creates a world that composes of only two strong arms that feel more like a prison than comfort
they bind
&
enclose on you

it's a love that should know when to stop
but doesn't
it's a never ending cycle of violence
of heavy fists
&
relentless kicks
then sweet kisses that act as apologies
trying to soothe the pain
&
then whispers  
"I'm sorry, never again. I promise."
words that you know not to trust

it is a love with no way out
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