loss is a heavy word lacing it's way through the scribbles of your handwriting
loss is feeling the cold rain submerge you in hypothermia when it's daytime
inside the head of a poet lives beautiful but dark nature written into hieroglyphs
inside is the loss perceived as something you deserved that you dealt
outside of my own skin is a shell created to hinder me from this loss
outside of the heart is where love is mechanically created in it's array
calloused hands hold the true nature of self destruction symbolizing crows
calloused souls can't leave the earth because temporary memories keep them alive
intertwine our lyrics and scores and let's sink into the ocean of harmony
intertwine our fingers and completely subdue yourself to the music of hope

-kra

“The beginning is perhaps more difficult than anything else,
but keep heart, it will turn out all right.” ― Vincent van Gogh*

the grand canyon knows nothing of being hallow like the
depth of the space between my ladder ribcage, climbing
out of this rut would be like rock climbing mount everest
without the correct equipment, but beginnings aren't
supposed to be endless paragraphs of traps you made
me so oblivious to. my hands have touched hell's scorch
and have brushed your heart strings, but nothing compares
to the way you make everything seem like a dream, like
an acid trip that took you into outer space and made you
float, but i'm tired of gravity pushing me down and this
is just pointless suffering, i'm not healing anytime soon
and my wishes are for the closure i haven't received yet
i have reached my breaking point.
               it is a decaying cage designed for me.
                              i cannot see anything but good memories.
         h  e  l  p     m  e                                 i am going blind, i am terrified.
                           these monsters don't want to wish me adieu.
                bottlenecked like condensed traffic,
and stuck inside my head.
this isn't a place for you to call home, i am a prison.
you couldn't thrive inside of my heart, it would be
asphyxiating for you because my heart is like a snake
squeezing tighter and tighter, i am not a home for you.
leave before i take every good part of you and destroy it.

- kra

jaws of sharks meet together
when you are the bait

- kra

ostracized from humans
and somehow i've grown accustomed
to being alone

- kra

every memory ends up like a kamikaze airshow,
where they end up hydroplaning on the air in
panic during the most vulnerable moments,
and the crash leaves demolition and a small
indention in the creases of my skin. my pain
is broadcasted to an audience of one, myself.
my name does not end up in the history books
nor does yours, but the pain still broadcasts
itself on the theater screen inside the crown
of my skull. it is like watching a kamikaze
airshow, where the planes are aimed towards
me. i wonder if it's just me in the planes or
if you have many different lives and it's normal
for you to die so many times and not feel pain.

- kra

you see, i've developed the front of a sheep and mind of a wolf
and concaved into myself like an irregular polygon because of the
people who roughly handled me like a last resort, never to fit in
and always to be confronted with my imperfections. these hands
are midas's opposites, converting beauty into the beast, scavenging
the bone marrow of others to keep me alive. the wall i've built up
makes the wall of china look like a scaled down model, because
the difference between jail and my ribcage is absolutely nothing.
they come hand in hand like best friends and i wish to drown the
sorrows building up in my chest with a tsunami with metaphors
that speaks of safehouses where people exist, not annihilation.

- kra

comparing
contrasting
there's more
oppositions
and i'm sick
of it.

- kra

you wonder. you wonder why i stuck syringes
in my arms where you left bite marks. only you
wonder why i've created a mess that is bigger
than life and why i have destroyed the things
you used to love. you wonder why i hate you.
IF CURIOSITY KILLED THE CAT, YOU ARE
A COLD BLOODED ANIMAL KILLER.
never did i get a chance to let my tongue spill
words unspoken over you like wine and watch
you swallow it and talk about how bitter it tastes
IT'S BECAUSE I'VE WATCHED THOSE WORDS
SINK INTO MY EARS AND GO DOWN THE
DRAIN OF MY HEAD AND FILL UP OVER
TIME UNTIL IT ALL STARTED POURING OUT.
wine isn't supposed to taste like blood. it's not
supposed to taste this bitter, but it does. you
have no remorse for eating me alive, staining
my bones with your saliva. your animal instincts
to claw your way through people makes me sick.

- kra

my spine was built out of wood that was
already rotting from carrying the burden
of the world on my shoulders, already
growing mold in between cracks of the
floor boards because somewhere along
the way, i stopped taking care of myself
and focusing on you. maybe that's why
you were the needle, and i was the aired
up balloon filled with radiating hope that
somehow, this feeling applies to you too.
like a rotted out tree, i fell slowly then all
at once into this rut i knew climbing out
of would be a challenge i did not sign up
for. would you call me an invertebrate?
without a sturdy backbone, you could
see i'm already to fall at your ******* whim.

- kra

1.  you are not shrapnel from a car crash. you are not
   your own destruction. you will be born again.
   2. this is an endless labyrinth of running into walls
    and thinking i know the way, when i have no clue
    what i'm getting into and where i am going.
    3. don't compare me to a meteor - slowly drifting
    away from everything you have ever known about
   me - because i am the same person. you changed.
   4. if your mirror is showing you a monster, you
   need to find any way to break that mirror.
   5. i never understood nirvana until you came into my life,
    yet i've never understood hell's scorch until you
    blatantly left without a proper goodbye.
    6. i will unleash the worst types of hell onto you.
    7. the only difference between fractals and the way
    you treat people is that you are no snowflake.
    8. if you were a mailbox, i would take out all of the
    flowers and constant reminders that i love you.
    9. i'm having problems eating. it's a constant reminder
    of how you told me about your favorite cereal is now a
    cereal i don't have the stomach to bring to my mouth.
   10. don't get yourself tangled in knots you cannot undo
    because you will be stuck trying to untie the knots by
    yourself.

    - kra

meeting you was like brushing shoulders with
god – once i turned around to catch a glimpse
of you, i realized it would take a requested but
granted miracle for us to intersect. they say in
euclid geometry that two parallel lines will
never touch despite the fact that they lie on the
same plane going in the same direction. as long
as that plane kept us interconnected, i thought it
would be okay to let you speak words of
resurrection to me. as long as the roses inside my
chest continue to blossom and as long as you
continue to help pluck off all the overgrowth of
thorns, i thought it would be okay to let you see
me for the beast that lies under my beauty. it feels
like i’m getting closer to the truth, but further
from the one that i’ve been looking for. the big
picture looks a lot like manifest destiny collided
with continental drift.

there is something called the bermuda triangle.
this is not to be mistaken as a metaphor for an
unrequited love triangle. a significant number
of aircraft and ships have mysteriously vanished
from thin air, so they have made a name specifically
for the catastrophic triangular death sentence
phenomenon that lies out in the north atlantic
ocean. i think of myself as the one aircraft that
plummeted into the waters early. despite how
long i’ve been flying this aircraft, it’s the turbulence
that puts me at risk for something like this. i didn’t
know being one of many parallel lines would have
a death sentence. mother nature is laughing at me
as i sink, because i’ve forgotten how to swim.

i’ve become a part of the empty space on the plane
filling in that void until you eventually collided
with a perpendicular line changing your direction.
parallel lines don’t get the satisfaction of ever
crossing into each other. they are always at arms
distance. close enough to touch, but not close enough
to feel the ghost of their breath on our cheeks. we’ve
acknowledged that the other exists, but not the fact
that we could divert from our paths towards each
other. loving you was a learning experience. it was
learning that i shouldn't swim into deep waters, but
i shouldn't stand in a three foot pool. this is why i want
to know if there is such a thing as non-euclidian
geometry, if there is hope for us parallel lines that
will never collide with our soulmates.

- kra

whenever somebody reminds me of you, i consider how our roles
were like margo and quentin from paper towns. you loved mystery
novels so much, i'm sure you became one yourself. at one point, i
wholeheartedly believed you were this unattainable celestial being
completely confined in your paper skin. then i realized something,
do you remember that day you called me your best friend as a joke
and the same day, you talked so much **** about me? it made me
realize you were right. you are a part of the ****** people living in
their **** houses burning **** to stay warm, since you like to talk
****. what was i expecting? of course, you're a high schooler. to
think that before my 21st birthday, i was quentin in the way i
admired you from afar, idealizing you as a god and dismissing
everybody else as animals. i preferred to let our paths cross in
my dreams. there were many times our strings crossed, separated,
and then came back together. although i don't have the drive to
chase you across border lines, i would skateboard miles after miles
of desert terrain just to have that opportunity to see you. realizing
it now, being friends with you was a ******* trap. to portray myself
as someone you would prefer to be friends with was difficult, since
you didn't really seem to like anybody all that much anyway. our roles
were strictly platonic, but the days stretched out seemed almost phantasmagoric. our strings that were knotted together so tightly broke
through and through, and none of us would have expected that i'd be
wanting to drive across border lines to stretch the distance out between
me and you, kind of like the way you stretched me out. as i'm slowly
undiscovering you, little by little, i'm realizing the way you think about
a person isn't the way they actually are. people are different when you
smell them and see them up close. now i'm addressing everyone that i
previously ignored because of you, and dismissing you as an animal. i
would rather live in my paper house than have to live with your ****.

- kra

you suddenly realize our bodies are so temporary like trees that age
the only difference is that the carvings in my trees are painful scars
the carvings in your tree is full of hope while despair fills my gaps
and through the cracks are dynamite so don't use an axe or saw
your love is enough for me, maybe i'll grow fruit someday
maybe my roots will intertwine with yours across the forest
maybe beautiful fawns will notice me and prance my way
but what does it even matter, we will all die anyway
the trees die, the prettiest of flowers die, vines and grass take over
castles will disintegrate, houses will disintegrate, and i will be forgotten
what's the point when history won't remember my existence?

-kra

he calls me siren
and my brain automatically processes,
“luring people to an imminent death.”
after explaining the definition of a siren,
the man redacted his comment,
apologizes,
going on to explain it’s the way
i am alluring as if that can take
back the moment my ex’s point
a ended up in a girl’s point b.

as if trying to sink my head below
the waves every night couldn’t feed
that animalistic appetite of his.

he calls me siren,
and i can’t help but think
about how draining it feels like
to have the aspiration to sing
but the fear of having to count
my casualties like sheep during
the night. like pills during the day.

we practice open mouth kissing
like you’re eating my words. we
embrace, and it feels like constriction.

i am a siren,
i lure people in wearing a chastity belt
and expect the ship not to sink. most of
these ships are pirate ships - there is
nothing pure about their intentions of
stealing my gold.

we romanticize the flames
as pure light
the choruses
as church hymns
until we are digging sailor’s graves
and watching the flames go out.

i am a siren, and i have not dared
to open my mouth lest i will bring death.

for starters, i am not the first thing people pick
off the apple tree of the garden of eden. in gym
class, my classmates deemed it appropriate to
pick me last. nobody thought fondly of me.

the serpent deceives me with lies to this day,
my brain a portfolio of snapshots of those dark
memories, almost to make a point about how i
am a loser who deserves to be in last place.

even after experiencing the serpent, i found you,
a lotus flower blooming with purity and created
verses for me to follow along to. you know, those
dark days are always close behind, but you're a
step closer to the light. even when some days i
become spineless, you teach me how to crawl
my way through the strange garden of eden.

at ground level, sometimes i find beauty.
that is also the way how i found you.

- kra

cherry blossom trees crowded the ladder of my ribs
and the toothpicks that held my chest so gently was
eradicated and fell apart like a house of cards blown
by the sharpness of the wind and i found myself
                                                                                     looking back at myself into the small looking glass
                                                                                     where i found a peace of mind in a strange world
                                                                                     where time does not define you, imagination does
                                                                                     and maybe that's where i belong, human purpose
is so fickle, we are restricted inside this demented
dimension where our mortality is all we know,
where we find ourselves being the pawn in a sea
of kings and queen, where our nightmares consist
                                                                                       of reality, in the mirror, we see an ugly duckling
                                                                                       when we really are swans, basking in the warm
                                                                                       sunlight, where the gears in our heart turn with
                                                                                       out pause, happiness is everlasting in fantasy

- kra

and i have found momentum in getting out
of my bed in the morning, even if you're not
around. i can still put a place holder on my
heart that isn't yours and be okay with it.

maybe you were hoping i wasn't going to
find myself again, that i would have to build
my muse up from the ashes. well, that's what
i have been working on while you have been
absent. maybe coming to terms with reality
set me free from the emotions you tricked me
into honestly ******* believing and *******,
i'm going to see myself fall apart from being
alone more than i'm going to miss you now.

then again, you were the last person left who
even bothered with me here. stop coming into
my life and causing chaos wherever you go.

i'd rather go on a road less traveled than on
a road that doesn't distract me from the mere
thoughts of you. i'd rather find happiness alone.

- kra

HAVING DREAM CATCHERS ABOVE MY BED
AND CONTINUING TO HAVE THESE NIGHT
TERRORS IS IRONY BECAUSE YOU ALMOST
******* CONVINCED ME THAT YOU WERE
THE EXTERMINATOR TO THOSE NIGHTMARES
BUT GOD, WAS I DEAD WRONG ABOUT YOU.
YOU DON'T EVEN HAVE THE INSTRUMENTS TO
RECREATE ANYTHING GOOD IN MY DREAMS
ANYMORE. FRANKLY, ALL YOU ARE ANYMORE
IS THE TRIGGERS TO MY NIGHTMARES. THIS IS
WHY I DON'T BELIEVE IN FORTUNES, TAROT
CARDS, SPIRITS, AND MUCH LESS, GOOD LUCK.
NO DREAM CATCHER CAN FULLY REMOVE THE
SCARS YOU'VE LEFT IMPRINTED IN MY MIND.

9.27.13: like lightning, i am stricken by fear of
the unknown. i remember feeling my legs burn
from running so hard away from you. i expected
you to walk into my arms and tell me how you
are so excited to finally meet me. it didn't happen.
12.21.13: the smell of you inflamed my blood, and
i smelled your skin days afterward. i remember how
stunned i was when i finally seen you face to face.
did you notice how nervewrecking and surreal it was
or did you just want an excuse to throw me aside?
2.21.14: the adrenaline numbed out the pain i got
from falling into the cactus and gravel, and i wish
i didn't run from you that day. maybe everything
could've been different. after punishing myself
by clawing at my skin until my legs were red, i
felt that same adrenaline inside of myself.
3.14.14: that day alone was the first day i recieved
solace, but i noticed i never got it in full. i decided
to build up walls while anxiety helped block out
the part of me that still remotely cares about you.
i can't even trust anybody anymore. that's sad.
3.18.14: my boyfriend told me you asked about
me when i left without telling anybody about
it. you heard right, i puked and cried over porcelain
because i felt so uninvited. you didn't look my way
once. you saw me as another cactus, another tree,
another tumbleweed. i know you didn't want me
there, you wanted to be with my boyfriend.
3.19.14: my boyfriend told me to talk to you, that
you've changed now, but i haven't had you fight
for me yet. you bothered him for days about being
friends again. how should i know you want to be
friends with me again? maybe i want you to fight
for me first until i succumb back to you again. my
anxiety won't even let myself get near you again.
you fought for my boyfriend even when he ignored
you, and i know that's not something you'd do for
me. i want that ******* solace from you already.
3.22.14: i don't even want to see you this time around
until i receive closure and answers to know how you
really see me. i am tired of fighting for you and getting
nothing back. i am done fighting for something that
doesn't even want my friendship. i will always have
a piece of you in my heart. i'm so sorry for everything.
3.29.14: i can't tell if i'm the accomplice of the crime or
the victim anymore. i seen this coming from a mile away.
i wish you would see the imperfections in people.
4.20.14: GET OUT OF MY LIFE. GET OUT OF MY LIFE.
YOU HAVE ALREADY TURNED ME INTO A MONSTER.
IT WILL NEVER GET BETTER, *******. YOU COMPLETELY
TORE THE VITAL COMPONENTS OUT OF ME. *******.
6.8.14: between you and me, i promised everyone a lie, that i
would stop running towards you and start running away.
seems like you were too afraid to raise your voice to us.
WE CANNOT IGNORE THE PAST FIVE YEARS.
7.17.14: today, you added me. i'm not sure if it was out
of respect or out of spite. you deliberately plan on bothering
me when my heart is in it's weakest state. i'm just hoping the
third time's the charm or the three strikes will rid of you forever.
7.21.14: my body is trembling underneath the weight of fear but
something is telling me it's going to be okay. i can't accept it.
you spoke to me for the first time after a few months. i missed
your voice and the way it said my name so casually when my
voice trembles when i speak about you.
7.22.14: i'm not sure if i can do this anymore. i don't know how
you feel about me and you claim it's okay but it isn't. i cannot
help you anymore. i'm not able to be there for you anymore.
this pain of not being able to help you is completely unbearable.
9.14.14: it's been around two months since i last really thought
about you. if i have, it's been unconscious slivers, unconscious
mentions, unconscious dreams. this time, they faded out.
this time, it got easier to cope without you. this time,
this is the ending of that painful chapter.
10.5.14: maybe if we met under a different
circumstance, i wouldn't be asking your
friends for advice since i can't follow my own
i miss you and i always will most likely
11.7.14: these legs they tremble when you
open your arms and let me in like an old
friend this body is not used to you yet
11.10.14: "you know who my best friend
is?" i said in a joking manner. as easily
as i said that, i heard you say, "me."
my body stopped in time, it warped back
to the times we were happy, where we
were best friends telling each other secrets
and keeping each other in our good dreams
and preventing from being in each other's
bad dreams. as much as i'd like to admit
that there is something there, i couldn't
lie to myself about what we are. there was
nothing i could do to take back the no that
spilled from my mouth and *******, it
hurts sometimes having a back burner
stance, being a mere shadow to you feels
like i'm kissing my fear goodnight
11.16.14: i told you to put your sheath
down, that this heart-to-heart wasn't
going to **** us, but it was to create
us. words of poetry spilled from my
lips and my eyes and you cleaned
it up. imagine that a few months
ago. i destroyed the dragon, and
may have saved the maiden for good.
11.27.14: giving up on you became an
option but now it's not. you are now a
password i can't decrypt. you are a birth
mark that i want to scrape off but can't.
it's like i already know that feeling is
back of doubt and i fear if you end up
confessing he will still want you around.
i will have to put up with it even on my
worst days and let's hope i can do it.
11.28.14: i haven't pulled an all nighter
in awhile but my god when you snore
softly beside me, i am suffocated with
sadness. my engine is running on low
but it is struggling to stay strong.
1.6.15: i am the epitome of a pause screen
or a riverbed that dried up. letting you
consume me was the silliest idea i could
muster after all of this waiting on the side
of the road, hoping you would give me gas.
1.7.15: i hope to leave you back in 2014 where
you belong, because there is no room in this
chest for you. i can be happy without you.
don't you dare get close to me again.
2.2.15: today is your birthday.....happy birthday
since saying it on your wall is improper for how
we are right now. it reminds me of old times,
when you wished me a happy birthday and
two days later, dropped me from existence.
4.26.15: isn't it funny how today, of all days, my
******* birthday, i end up finding out the truth
behind why you isolated nathan. IT'S PRETTY
******* FUNNY HEARING I'M ANNOYING
FROM YOU, YOU ******* *****. GO DIE.
and i hope you succumb to the scars i left on you.
6.5.15: FINALLY. YOU SEE EXACTLY HOW I FEEL.
I HOPE YOU REALIZE WHAT YOU HAVE DONE,
BECAUSE AS A PEACEKEEPER, YOU COULDN'T
EVEN KEEP THE PEACE BETWEEN US. HOW SAD.
12.5.15: 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, is my world falling apart.
6.27.16: six months pass, and my mind is set on a girl
but it's not you anymore. this was my rare blue moon
event in my life, and you didn't even give me three percent
of the full security which what she has given me.

- kra

redemption is not found at the bottom of
the ocean, as i have found out. all i know
of is lungs filling with watered down
metaphors that compress my chest. the
way panic attacks works is similar to it.

i have not found redemption in anything
because i thought you were some type of
celestial being sent down to me. maybe i
assumed you were god, but i didn't expect
you to flood the earth and forget about me.

you let me drown out of self defense.

i found more comfort in the white walls i
surround myself with on a daily basis because
without you, i have nothing. i have found more
comfort from people thousands of miles away
in a minute than comfort you can give me in a
month. i have accepted redemption will probably
never arrive, so i have attached myself onto her.

she is the one thing i have left as a sister, and i
would be more honored to lose her than you
anyway. i'm sorry if you are not finding any
redemption yourself, but at this point, i will
find redemption in someone more stable.

you are unstable, and i never wanted this.

- kra

"flower cannonball" they called you, since your
stems wrapped itself tightly together like hands
intertwined or vines clinging onto a fence or even
my teacup mix's claws yanking onto my lace shirt.

they used the dumpster graveyard flowers to create
you. despite the vivid color scheme, the cannonballs
were nothing short of a beautiful disaster in my head.
let an apocalypse happen, i'm already rotting away
anyway from the mixture of screwdrivers and the
cannonball drinks. let me strain myself clear of hues
of blues and black you painted me with. let me sink
with these letters tucked underneath my ribcage as
my seatbelt for the death sentence. at first, i couldn't
understand why you were called a name like that.

now i am understanding love and loss's gravitational
pull and the release of that gravity. you were a beautiful
disaster, building castles on rubble and driving ferraris
on cracked streets filled in with tar. you were nothing
short of beautiful, nothing short of death being romantic,
and death is starting to look a lot like you now.

i don't even care if i die anymore.

- kra

5/18/16
14 days -
"empty love" is a boarded up home flooded in
and drowned out taking all of the things that
makes a home a sanctuary. it wilted the rose
petals, it left the house barren and heavy.

5/19/16
13 days -*
i'm as sober as i've ever been, but the
line still is blurred for me. my toes are
pushing the limits, touching the line,
daunting, taunting, flaunting, *wanting.

5/20/16
12 days -
what terrifies me is that you don't make
me feel like all the lights inside of me are
turned off. something in me comes to life.
it's the whiskey burning my throat, it's the
burning in my heart that collapses the days.

5/21/16
11 days -
something is ripping apart inside of myself,
it is the collapse of everything i've ever built
carefully placed up a house of cards only to
watch myself fall. i am not a good person.

5/22/16
10 days -
i hear the police sirens every time i catch a glimpse
of the white light of euphoria. it is actually the
lights of the oncoming train. it is death.

5/23/16
9 days -
human hands are always covered with bloodshed,
from hearts they've ripped and torn. we don't see
it because it's washed down the drain in the morning.

5/24/16
8 days -
sixty days since we talked. at seventy one days, we
will finally meet for the first time. you will see my
skeletons, the secrets hidden in my ribcage. i love
you so much that it lights my veins on fire.

5/25/16
7 days -
we are large demons hiding inside tiny bodies.
this rib cage is much too small to hide all of my
secrets. all of my deceit lies here rotting, growing
until the stench of curiosity becomes unbearable.

5/26/16
6 days -
this dense ache is becoming so heavy, but i would
still chase the sun even though all i can do is feel
her shine through parts of me every night.

5/27/16
5 days -
on the fifth day in our favorite game, a severe storm
happened. today, a severe storm happened. this is
only the beginning of the storm on north carolina.

5/28/16
4 days -
dare i say i will let you pull the switch and
drop the guillotine, because i trust you that
much more with letting me die. frankly, i
have no intention to continue to live.

5/29/16
3 days -
this might be the occasion that my lust will
burn at it's peak. somehow, i am trying to
find ways of smothering that smoke signal
that many people can't see from miles away.

5/30/16
2 days -
where the light is at, that's where i've always
pictured you. where the darkness exists, i'm
neck deep but still trying to swim towards
that light. everything seems to shrink lately.

5/31/16
1 day -
there is floundering in floral and foreplay, and
a beautiful disaster in the eyes of shakespeare
and hamlet, we are two created equals with
the idea that burning will keep us both safe.

6/1/16
0 days -
these thorns are tearing through my skin,
emptying out every single secret hidden
in my bloodstream. hopefully, none of
those secrets have your name on it.

- kra

maybe i grown accustomed to candy coating everything
i touch, especially the truth. but this comfort you provide
is so false and unpredictable, it makes me uncomfortable
and puts me on edge, like the seconds before pulling the
trigger on russian roulette but hear me out, you will never be
above gravity or a example of a tyranny figure, you will always
be skin, flesh, and bones but you hide your skeletons in
my closets and the dreamcatchers don't catch the darkness
the right way anymore, but i am the gasoline and you are
the fire starting in my bones and rushing in and out
of my life like waves on a shore, and i wish gravity
would hold you here but i tore your entire world apart
and i left you to put pieces together and i left a part
of me with you, and i wish i ******* didn't.
i wish i ******* didn't leave a part of me with you.

- kra

i started a collection inside of my ribcage
of birds that tickled me pink and red and
eventually blue. i lost enough blood to call
it a suicide from withholding harmless
animals so tightly in a confined space that
there was only one way out. after that mishap,
i started growing flowers and writing endless
metaphors about you, describing how you
make the stars dim out in embarrassment of
itself and how benign your disposition was.
you wonder why i watched the flowers wilt
and why i wanted the stars to ultimately turn
the sky into a deep asphalt color. you wonder
why i couldn't breathe when i tried my hardest
to be on your good side whenever you were at
the top of the food chain and i was below you.
looking at you made me see why i forgot to
take care of myself, because all of my focus
was trying to connect the dots of our friendship
and bring peace between us again. my words,
shaped into metaphors, turned into dust after
i burned every evidence of you. i am tired of
waking up in a hospital after a failed attempt
to completely forget you for good.

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

these endless string of days where i feel the bee hive
inside my head tremble and break open are like torture
but there was recently the bees let me see how clear it
is without the constant buzzing sounds and swarming
around my head like a severe migraine. that one day was
the calm before the storm; it was solace i needed but didn't
receive in full. it's true, maybe i didn't deserve that solace,
but i haven't experienced hangovers until the aftermath threw
me out of the road and into the thorny bushels which are
now what i sleep in each night. i've learned to focus on
my steady breathing patterns and counting all the way
up to one thousand and all the way back to zero.  it helps
distract myself when the weights on my chest gets heavy.

- kra

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

i doubt you've managed to realize what
you have become in my perspective.

imagine yourself as a mild virus, crawling
your way through my pores disguised as
white blood cells. you circulate through a
crowd infecting people, of course, they
fail to see a disease when they see you
blossom. they see a garden where my
blood was spilled. they see train track
marks on my skin and don't ask how
they got there. you will inflame the
hearts of vulnerable people like you
promising to make them bloom, but
sweetie, do you know everything has
to die? you tied me to the train tracks,
and tell everyone it was my clumsiness
like it was my fault that left me alone
dying on the train tracks. it was your
fault you tied my hands and feet to
the bed of the tracks. if you admitted
to the crime, you would compose a
symphony of white lies confessing of
the fault lines i crossed. if i died by
your hands, it would have been like
watching the bride come at me with
the same knife she cut the cake with.

you managed to infect my being with
fervent compassion for you, yet i wish
god gave me the controls to erase that
feeling. this animal-like hunger is not
welcome inside of my bleached skin.

- kra

without hesitation, i asked everyone
in the room a lighthearted question.
"you know who my best friend is?"
in the same breath, you spit out
"me." what surprised me the most
was that you didn't even think about
the question. it came naturally to you,
like how most things come. at that
moment, my spirit left my body all
in the matter of the seconds between
your reply and my initial reaction.
my soul traveled to the times we were happy,
telling each other secrets and keeping those
promises that we swore under oath. the
dreams we had about each other would
always be good dreams, not nightmares.
as much as i'd like to admit that there is
still something there, that i will be able to
call you my sister & my best friend again,
i had to be honest. i was never honest
to you and that's how i lost you. there
was nothing i could do to take back the
"no" that rolled off my tongue like an
avalanche or a confession to a holy
priest and between me and god, you
are the closest i've gotten to god. the
back burner you left me on has left
third degree burns but isn't dying a
martyr to you the best way to go?
or would you be the one to turn the
other way if i challenged death?

- kra

you are my favorite book
with the worst of cliffhangers

- kra

when the words stuck in my throat mature
slowly like honeydew and childish adults,
that's when a line has to be drawn. when
words are lodged in your throat, not by
accident, that's where the line has to be
formed. when the scars of their words
leave you bottlenecked, trying to find the
words to express the vagueness of that
empty feeling, the line has been crossed.

- kra

do not cover your tracks, for as steady as your body
carries itself, as long as you hide from the inevitable
downfall, you will end up losing your way back home.

with every blanket you own, you covered everyone in
immunity forgetting me, as if i had my own to defend
myself from the sky where debris of planes fell, shrapnel
cutting through air gravitating towards me, the odd one
out. all i had was a flashlight to defend myself, but what
good does that do when you're living in a ghost in repeat?

my mind can't agree with my heart often.

i am a passing glimpse in your windows progressing nowhere
not brave enough to voice myself because the blanket rule covers
me. when you are brave enough to glance at the windows, i hope
you glance at me and remember that the opportunity of finding
your second home lies in my soul. when you remember that, i
hope you end up clashing with me and figure out if you want
to keep me there in your life or not. when i point the flashlight
at you, i hope you are able to forget the shallow blanket rule.

my chest hurts from my heart beating so roughly against my
ribcage but don't blame me for shaking at your very presence
because maybe i'm as scared of god as i'm scared of the devil.

- kra

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

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

is there a scale that exists, like the richter scale,
that shows how you shake up my world like
a cocktail shaker, where my heart is a liquid
conforming to the shape of the container,
and you stir up a storm inside of me, lock
me up in a cage in the midst of the storm,
and let me stay in here until the wind wears
me down until i am little more than an itch
on your back, an empty ***** bottle, a burnt
out cigarette, a tear on your sleeve, or the
remnants of the candle i lit in hopes of you
seeing the flickering flames inside of my skin
signaling help from the burn out, and now i'm
hoarding piles of dust to find remnants of you
in the ashes. i'm hoarding the rubble from the
earthquake you put my heart through, hoping
to find some flickering flame in the midst of the
chaos. i'd scale this earthquake at a nine, not
exactly pinpointing my pain scale at a ten, but
close enough to destroy everything in it's path.
when i stare at you, i see an earthquake and i
see the hands building foundations. it would
be the biggest honor to have my world shaken
and stirred by your very presence.

- kra

to fall for someone means catching them, right?
like holden caulfield pictured it, there should
logically be someone who can catch the kids who
start to go over the cliff if they’re not paying
attention to where they’re going metaphorically.
however, the rules of love does not play fair.
a lot of times, the catcher in the rye becomes
a phantom limb. everything is disillusioned
and phony, don't let the world try to trick you.

then what kind of ******* am i pushing when
i'm pushing myself towards the cliff? do i
kiss you out of loneliness? do i miss love?

don't let the absence swallow you, or you'll
be riding for a fall—it’s a special kind of fall,
a horrible kind. i'm not permitted to feel or
hear myself hit bottom. i just keep falling
and falling. the moment i turned towards
the cliff, i was letting you crawl into my skin,
and you infected me like a plague so fast
that i could see my vision get blurry from
the sides from running towards that cliff.

all i know is i’m one of the kids in the field
of rye sprinting towards the edge of the cliff
with open eyes hoping the catcher in the rye
will rope his arm around my stomach before
i plummet. the fall i think i’m riding for - it’s
a special kind of fall, a horrible kind. i’m not
permitted to feel or hear myself hit the bottom.
i just keep falling and falling until the catcher
helps me get back onto my feet, however, i can
not pitch the ball and catch it too.

- kra

when i'm sitting in a cheap plastic chair, trying to
explain to the doctor how bad the pain feels on a
scale of one through ten, i will tell him that it is a
nine. i have experienced what a ten feels like.
1. ten is when you told me to *******, to go ahead
and **** myself because nobody could miss me.
2. ten is having someone you love convince you
that you are only a hurricane, tearing everything
down into rubble and obliterating everything.
3. ten is believing that i am a hurricane, i am a
tsunami, i am a wildfire, i am a natural disaster
4. ten is seeing a part of you in every part of my
small society. you are an omnipresent spirit that
tends to enjoy haunting my nightmares.
5. ten is seeing you happy without me.
and the worst part is, doctors are only able to do
so much right now. all they can do is numb me
out with percocet and hear me talk about how
i miss the way you smiled because of me and
how i don't do enough to make you happy.

- kra

14 days before -

they say one day, you will have to face your
fears otherwise they may become triggers.
there will be places you won't want to visit
because you will end up looking the thing
you fear in the eyes. to get over fears don't
happen overnight, yet placing myself in
positivity is something i fear the most.

13 days before -

perhaps the mountains are getting taller, but this
city is turning into nothing more than a prison.
this city is starting to lose it's vivid orange hues,
and it's evaporating into the sky into a dark gray
cloud of fury and resentment. this wanderlust is
not healthy for me, considering i lose interest in
everything. getting scorched by the heat like this
is becoming something like torture.

12 days before -

regret is remembering something with
the aftertaste feeling of loss and sorrow.
jesus christ, trying to get to know you was
like studying for a test of an entirely
different subject than the material i'm
learning now. even being left with the
aftertaste of something sour, it was the
closest to the truth i've ever discovered.

11 days before -

on my 21st birthday, i found out about your true
wolf-like persona, of those piano-like fingers
being sharp claws that always had me in a choke
hold, and i let you sniff out my vulnerability
without questions or concerns. now why did
i not leave for the paper towns in the first place
when my gut was screaming about bad news?

10 days before -

rain, rain, can you please go away because you
are making me worry about the silliest things
like how i called myself rain on a hydrophobic
world. brain, brain, stop thinking right now
about the silliest things, you have no need
to stoop to this level of sheer anxiety.

9 days before -

i will not be a prisoner-of-war, allowing you to
torture me with sweet lullabies of safe comfort
words, anymore. i would rather you pull the
trigger, since you were a step too late to fix
the fact that you became my trigger. i'm my
own harriet tubman, finding paths to get out
of this slave-like existance you call friendship.


8 days before -

i am determined to make something of myself
because being pliable and rubber-like just made
me deformed to you since your hands weren't
exactly careful with me in the first place. i am
determined to wash myself clean of these sins,
rid myself of the detritus, and make the sun shine
right out of the very *** i wished you kissed.

7 days before -

i will continue to grieve of the afternoon that
we poked fun at mormons because i've realized
you stooped me down to their level unconsciously.
i'll be blunt, this distance between us is only growing
wider and wider and i hope whatever was between
us will end up tearing in half when i'm unreachable.

6 days before -

when everyone sees you explode into a flurry
of fireworks, the way i will see you is as the
father of all bombs, where you will evaporate
everything i've ever been familiar with right
from my very eyes. to think i gave myself
third degree burns to give life to dead things.

5 days before -

The words I couldn't vocalize
The thoughts I couldn't accept
The memories are piercing and heavy
They're becoming stiff, and like lead

4 days before -

i heard the water company nestle is using the
reservoirs of california to make bottled water,
leaving california in it's worst drought in years
and i think of how you used me just to get to
him and how i chased you down state lines
and how i ran for the hills once you left me
in the worst drought i've had in years.

3 days before -

to survive, you must become selfishly inclined.
nobody will warn you of the dog eat dog world
as a child, so you have to run on the course
natural selecton provides you. mother nature
is a real ******* in the way she disguised her
colors as fall, when she is always artic winter.

2 days before -

run from the predators. don't let yourself
be swallowed by the building doubt in your
tummy. although you are small, your existance
is wider than you think it is. you can expand
yourself wide enough so you are not the victim
of mother nature's cruel & unusual punishment.

1 day before -

i have loved and lost, but never once forgot the
places i once fell in love with, with the rolling hills
and valleys and the thunderous roar of billowing
dust storms. the planes are at seven and the trains
at eleven, and i nearly forgot about how i used to
live in the quiet fortress of my forgettable town.


0 days before -**

i want to ask the passengers on this plane
what they're leaving for. maybe vacation,
an adventure i'll never know of, or perhaps
they're running from the truth of the matter.
texas seems like it's going to welcome me with
warmer arms than arizona has done in months.

i cannot be defined by words, but by my actions,
by the way i have two signs of destruction, the
act of self-destruction or by shutting down on
myself. in hopes of keeping these spontaneous
combustions less erratic and vehement, lately,
i've been donating my skin, replacing it with
metal. maybe becoming a cyborg, makes me
a different person, but it just makes me feel
like a doomsday clock. my blood has been
replaced with gun powder, my skin coated
into titanium pallets, my words creates the
ignition, set to go off. i've become an active
volcano that hasn't made any progress in
being active, and as much as i yearn to
explode to you with these thoughts inside
my head trickling in my thoughts like gasoline,
my words become the lit cigarette to start a
fire, my memory has fallen in love with the
idea of you and the fact you could destroy
my world just by ignoring me. but you don't.
your heart stays active while mine is on standby.

- kra

our favorite game starts with the introduction
of an hurricane. usually storms are depicted in
dreams as sinewy turbulence swelling up, a rough
beginning, and the ending result of the story is
where something is lost. the storm takes something.
mother nature will not give mercy to the kindest
of us humans.

the safety point is a lighthouse, that promise
of light at the end of the tunnel. i have always
stuck to the shadows instead of reaching out
towards the light, stuck with the desire and
fear of change, but you shot out like a startled
deer. you – of all people – bring color to the
chiaroscuro painted world. i – of all people –
stir up storms in people and seem to leave
behind only wreckage and skeletons. there
is a light shining through you which careens
through my skin instead of ricocheting off
of me.

our wavelengths mimic each other some days,
but i have a storm roaring through my skin that
i’m afraid to let anyone get a glimpse at. if
my exoskeleton ever was torn down by anyone,
the storm would remember to bury me in the
remaining rubble and shrapnel left behind.

mother nature will not scare me anymore,
and i will start at ground zero and build
myself upwards towards cloud nine and
beyond. something is lost, but there is
always something gained from loss.

- kra

you are a bullet, pushing through everything & everyone
in your path only to achieve your happiness. somehow,
i always find myself behind the barrel of the gun. i cannot
conceal the self-inflicted bullet wounds like empty holes
with snakes sneaking out of the orifices. trying to suppress
the infection with outside sources is like treating a wound
with salt: it only gets worse each day. the recoil of the gun
is only becoming more common. thankfully, the sharp
pain has turned into a short resounding moan that wishes
itself to sleep and wistfully shoving the vague memories
back down into the ninety percent of my mind i do not use.
this is no fairytale ending. this is obliteration; this is a fallout.
this is the reality of a rapture, this is the third world war the
bible never warned us about, this is speaking in complete
silence. this is worse than complete loathing. this is what you
are not warned about. i understand now that i am the victim
of the many crimes you’ve committed and i still want everything
and more to do with my culprit. this is a colossal curse.

- kra

this understuffed bed in my stomach is capable of containment
because it is a forest of redwood fluttering with bats, slithering
with snakes, and crawling with panthers. it is an expansive house
that is mostly empty, always rented out, people crossing the
threshold of my comfort zone as if the door to my life is a ******* welcome mat, everyone seemingly feigning ignorance to the
existantial crisis in my stomach that is like a world war three.
people ask me why i have anxiety. well, they're the same ones
who cuts down the forest of redwoods and turns the ending
result of the paper into origami, and they watch the way my
skin begins to imprint a crease that stays. they're the same
ones who don't notice that the redwoods are my pillars,
just like how bones and atoms are building blocks. cautiously,
you knocked on the door to my comfort zone, and opened the
door when I allowed you to come in. you are a natural green
thumb, planting trees where others cut them down, mending
the creases in the paper to the best of your ability. you prevented
me from going extinct, from these localized fires becoming forest
fires, and gave life to the empty gray parts of myself.

- kra

why is it that home doesn't have a official plantation
for my heart to grow? when all i want to do is expand,
i shrink to make room for the negativity and the shadows
of me are becoming more relevant than my actual self.
i sleep out in the foyer of every person's life, where
god forbid i open their doors because i'll leave them ajar
when their wounds are at their deepest. i'll be the fish
struggling to adjust and train their lungs to breathe with
no water. i'll be the person, struggling to breathe thirty
feet under water without an oxygen tank because i fell
in love with a mermaid, and ariel has already made a
deal with ursula for another. here's to my 21st birthday
coming up, where the first three shots will have your
name written on the tiny plastic cups. here's to you,
suiting up in your best attire for prince charming.
here's to the home i have, where home is not exactly
home and smiles aren't always that honest.

- kra

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

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

stand by and listen to the jaws of this shark with
a vocabulary like a diamond - sharp and clear.
pity only yourself, you fickle & futile tyrant.
you stand for nothing and fall for anything,
and ride your bike on expressways as if there
is a bike lane especially reserved for you. in
this food chain, you are nothing more than
plankton while i am the great white whale,
casting a large overhead shadow over you
always leaving you on your tiptoes by the
boundary line. in this lane, i'll be the one
to forget my seat belt as i run you over.
somehow, i loved that selfish part of you.
somehow, i don't love that part of you, and
would love nothing more than to obliterate
you from my past and from my memories.

- kra

i used to associate screwdrivers with the tools
my father regularly brought with him on his belt
to work, and now that i have tasted a screwdriver
and the aftertaste of you lingers after every huge
swallow, i want to drink until inch by every inch
of my body can feel something remotely far from
where you are. i want to associate screwdrivers
with tools, as a woman, i may use maybe once
or twice, but never as a drink. i really hope i get
drunk today because i'm not seeing my muse.
ever again. the tectonic plates underneath my feet
have shifted and i'm not able to stand on my own
anymore. how i only wish i could say that i'm
suffering and being miserable all for you.

- kra

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

“you can't go home,” said thomas wolfe, “back home to the
old forms and systems of things which once seemed ever
lasting but which are changing all the time.” but...here i am.
i've shattered that idea like expensive broken china, like the
mirrors i shattered within the 72 hours of being back here in
texas, the state of volatile weather patterns and skeletons i've
hid in the toybox in the attic upstairs. he said, “i can't go back
home to my childhood.” thomas, i have retained memories
like these and kept them hidden in the jewelry box along
with the lock of my hair i cut with scissors purposely when
i was seven ******* in a bow. i've uncovered artifacts from
my past, refuting your statement. thomas said, “i cannot go
back home to aestheticism.” as he believes the small-town
image i exist within will shapeshift at will and without
hesitation. another thing, he mentioned, “i cannot go back
home to one's youthful idea of 'the artist' and the all-sufficiency
of 'art' and 'beauty' and 'love'.” landmarks still stand out to me.
the bridge connecting both parks nearby my house overlooking
a large lake at the peak of the golden hour is sufficient enough
for art. it is sufficient enough to be considered something of
beauty, that needs to be captured. it is sufficient enough to
remember i've loved and lost so many things on this bridge.
thomas said, “i cannot go back home to the father you have
lost and have been looking for.” but thomas, i have recently
faced my dad with red glazed-over eyes, and he has always
been looking out for me. he has always shone a beacon
towards me, yet i've been so terrified of following the lights
in fear of losing my shadows. you told me, “i cannot go back
home to someone who can help you, save you, ease the burden
for you.” all i have been doing is surrounding myself with
people who can help me, save me, and ease my burdens.
and i can't help but notice gaps in these moments when
you say, “you're back home to the escapes of time and
memory, but katelyn, remember, the old forms and systems
of things which once seemed everlasting are rapidly changing
all the time.” and i notice the large gaps like amnesia blackouts.
sorrow can handle long distance relationships, but i can not.

_                                       ~                                   _
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.