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Frisk Jan 2016
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1. you have taught me to feel insecurity about
entering relationships if they're not godsent.
2. why do you tell me that i'm pushing you
away when i have never tried letting you in?
3. stop tracking me. stop following me. leave
me alone. that's all i've ever wanted from you.
4. we started off strong, and ended up unkempt.
5. you damaged my lover, damaging myself.
6. take off your lack of pride before clothes.
7. something flipped, maybe it was you.
8. don't add fuel to a dying flame, *****.
9. now i can see how you're vexatious,
a human equivalent of a loony bin.
10. i'll give you something to gossip
about, you stuck-up *******.
11. in fact, i don't kiss and tell, sorry.
12. you just kept on ******* pushing me.
13. why can't you just leave me alone?
14. you remind me why i've become
so repellant towards the human race.
15. no offense, but you're not my type.
16. i wish for you a lifetime of failed
relationships and bad karma.
17. don't get angry at me because you
couldn't get your feelings reciprocated.
18. you never understood me when i
had told you how bad it gotten.
19. how low can you actually get?
20. can you take a ******* hint?
21. i'm thankful i wasn't manipulated
into having a baby with you, honestly.
22. things were too awkward for us,
we were strangers in love at times.
23. it never seemed like you were
easy to please, but i couldn't run.
24. glad i dodged that bullet with you.
25. keep on reminding me how much
of a **** up i am, and i'll ******* leave.
26. the part that wouldn't let me get close
to you was the fact i was entirely two-faced.
27. you can shove your judgemental fingers
up your whale looking flabs, sick ****.
28. don't think a ******* $20 blowdryer is
enough to buy my love, step-******.
29. there is always a brick wall between us.
30. now you're patrolling me on here?
31. things never come to a close, and that
also applies to how our story ended.
32. you made out with me, and left me
broken in the end. should've known.
33. i'd like to shove a bar of soap so far
up your ***, you hypocritical mexifucker.
34. you hurt me so severely, making the
rest of the numbers look like my friends.
35. how dare you make my brother try
*******, you crack-headed *****.
36. you are a familiar comfort, but that
doesn't mean i won't put up my walls.
37. both of us have terrible secrets, we
are very good at being hypocrites.
38. i don't like people who **** others.
39. we were the ones who vandalized
your mailbox that one summer night.
40. you were the first girl i've kissed,
and the first person who flipped faces.
41. wow, did you really exchange your
girlfriend to my boyfriend for me? ew.
Frisk Dec 2015
they consider this constellation the closest one to
earth, easily able to be seen by the naked eye. it
illuminates vividly, a composition of splattered
hot blue on a black canvas. or to our eyes, white.

the first time i noticed the star cluster, my eyes
started to unconsciously look for it every night.
when i first looked through a lens to view that
constellation, it surprised me that it wasn't white
stars after all. in fact, it was a deep ocean blue.

that's why you can't tell me that i'm like the sun
because even though i shine visibly and keep you
warm, my touch is white hot. it's safer if i can see
you and know you're safe, rather than touch you.

- kra
Frisk Dec 2015
six months pass, my mind is on the sun and
you are the moon. there must have been a
solar eclipse event i wasn't prepared for,
because that's a sign the world is ending,
and god help me, my world is falling apart.

six months pass, and it's snowing in the
middle of july. that was foreshadowing
of the storm i would come to experience,
so i watched from inside as the snow piled
up, burying me under layers of her icy stare.

six months pass, and i have learned to see past
this dystopia you have given me a hand in
building. next time, drop bombs, not hearts.

- kra
Frisk Dec 2015
when i look at you, i see varieties of magenta:
i see blood-stained bedsheets, martial laws,
lack of leverage, pale skin with blue veins
popping out in a coquettish manner, flames
spewing out from lava, fault lines, the first
chakra located at the base of the spine, a
constant threat of losing choke hold on the
utopia i've built from scratch, horror movie
shrieks, regret, so much regret, panic attacks,
faces red with tears streaming like waterfalls,
and the ultra violence one of the seven deadly
sins bring: wrath. what i don't admit is that,
even when i look at the thing i fear the most
in the eyes, i see the passion, sensitivity, and
love that have shriveled up and died from time.

- kra
Frisk Nov 2015
first impressions are always a joke. even lucifer
had fooled everyone at some point. that's why,
don't forget that even the wolves are trained to
act like lambs, where fangs are concealed with
candy-coated charismatic words. the fluidity of
their tongues carry deceit. their bruised hands
may look like burdens they've had to carry, but
everyone has their share of demons. they have
experienced the transition from innocence to
corruption, faced it with gnashing teeth. these
self-proclaimed heroes are nothing but drawings.
seasons change, so does the heroes. like the
quote goes, you either die a hero, or live long
enough to see yourself become the villain.

with this message, i will proceed to betray
everyone i ever loved. i am in perfect
symmetry with my eradication.

- kra
Frisk Nov 2015
i am hopelessly enchanted with the ghosts
hiding in the attic, the dilapidated dust-mite
covered picture frames, and the plastic worn dolls
wearing their frilly dresses. the things that are
endlessly fascinating that wash me offshore, i
battle currents to find them. i am humbling,
yet i have a strong lack of courage. the words
i want to say become dust mites, float away
into the air, and meet another mouth distant
from mine. the attic becomes an abandoned
studio, where the beautiful things lie alone.
my hands yearn to meet with the ghosts.

- kra
Frisk Oct 2015
there are ghosts in the last home i lived in.
there is war, bloodshed, tears stained like
red wine on white rugs burned into the
blueprints of the architecture of this home.
children's laughter rings through this hall
way, but these walls know only stories of
my fingerprints leaving deep impressions
on the people who still live in that home.
this laughter is starting to sound almost
menacing, accusatory, a sound i'm starting
to dread. everyone acknowledges the ghost,
but they tend to avoid talking about it’s
presence. those windows know nothing
but rainy days, stormy nights, blinding
sunny days, and the sound of my voice.
if they're lucky, the people who live in
that house can hear my voice, even if
they're forgetting how it sounds.

i'm forgetting how nice it sounds to be
acknowledged, not as an impression of
an apparition burned into the walls.

- kra
tl;dr - a close friend messaged me talking about how he passed by my house and he brought up memories of stuff that happened while i was down. that house, it seems like i left a ghost of myself there. i miss being there so badly because even though i'm not there, i still feel like everyone tends to forget about me. summing it up, it brought me to tears when he messaged me.
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