When will you learn
to stop giving pieces of your heart away

To girls who want the whole thing

When will you learn
there have been two girls
who should have, could have
would have saved you from yourself

Had you not hated them for seeing through you
you and the *******

When will you learn
that you’re angry because you don’t know what else to be
and you’re alone because you hold the hands of the wrong girls
while you’re thinking of the right ones

I'd just like to take a moment
To acknowledge all the good you pour from your heart
All the love you give without a second thought
I'd like to thank you for remembering
What it was like and for
Reminding me none of this ******* will matter
I want you to know I appreciate
Every single thing that you do
And say
I would like to just say thank you
Thank you for loving me
Thank you for saving me
Thank you for being you
Now you get to be reminded
Because if I know you
I know you'll need to be reminded
I love you

Have you ever wondered
what lies beyond the mirage,
or does the ******* they feed you
subdue your entourage?
Being pillaged and plundered
torn asunder by their botched collage.
Essential issues whither
the trivial prevail,
incessant bickering
we applaud, and we hail
As the boys in blue trade in their suits
for masks and camouflage.
Ignoring truth with no dispute,
Lady Liberty's bon voyage.

No sense to question why.
just wave her goodbye
Something in the water
Something in the sky

one day you are my best friend.
the next. you pretend i don't exist.
you played me.
just like you play your music. on and on.
i didn't realise it until you ran away.
you said "we just had to get something"
thats *******. it feels like more.
when we are alone. you are mine. we do everything together.
i sorted my life out for you.
in a different way. we are sisters.
we share a family. entwined. and yet.
when the moment strikes, you leave me. and pretend nothing happened. and thats what hits me the hardest.
the fact that you don't recognise the hurt, pain and agonising feeling in my stomach. it hits me like a knife. digging deeper into my soul.
and you don't know.
but. i keep coming back for more. and each time i do, the cut gets deeper. and deeper. i cry. kick. scream.
for you.
and i shouldn't but i do.
i can't believe that you did it without me.

I saw many of them,
brave young souls
dying on strange foreign soil.
Sadly, they believed in the hype,
this war on terror,
it's not about the oil.
Such *******,
such a waste.
Watching their young lives
trickle out onto the desert sands,
while the rest of the world
converses on Facebook,
listens to their new favorite bands.

the story always starts and ends with
the same exact thing: barriers.

the welcoming mat wasn't always
so unwelcoming. the public used to
walk into the doors of your soul,
peer in and examine you, and
if they liked it there, they would
rent out a part of you and you
would be the determining factor
if you should keep them there.

so it wasn't a surprise that maybe
i overstayed past my rent date
and never paid the bills because
i believed maybe, just maybe,
i didn't have to pay because i
was one of your favorite tenants.

now it's like the doorway to your
friendship is behind barriers of
broken trust. i am only invited
into your home as a peace treaty,
never as a favorite tenant.

the fact i have to scale down my
existence, which isn't exactly big
in the first place, to make you
happy infuriates me.

i will cross a ******* ocean, and
with every kick against the angry
waves, i hope you will see with
each tiring kick that i am restless

each time 11:11 hits, i wish for
you to, at least, be friends with
me again, and i still don't
believe in the 11:11 *******.

i just do it anyway hoping someday
i won't have to pay rent or abide by
a ******* peace treaty to live within you.

- kra

I was never fragile
never let another's opinions sway me-
You ruined me.
Showed me what jealousy was
and let it rip through my flesh
until it was the only thing left of me
it's still buried beneath the cracks
awaiting to come out at every crevice
I wish I knew what trust felt like.
I wish I didn't have to lose it so badly
I wish you didn't steal it from me.
Why do you wander on my mind
like a bad memory that creeps unexpected.
You are a common cold
the thought of you lingers
and there's not much I can do to make it go away
other than sleep and comfort food.
I've mourned my entire life-
I'll continue on just fine again
mourning everyone else
like they're just another pair of eyes I wear.
I never saw your eyes
they were always bloodshot and broken.
You never saw me
your eyes were too busy hiding.
I don't want this mess you made for me, so ******* clean it up.
Take this feeling from my gut
this anxiety you left me with.
Take this love I so selflessly gave
and remind yourself how selfish you were with it.
I hope one day I forget you-
and all the ******* you left
creeping inside my mind
and hiding beneath my insecurities.
I will mourn for you,
I will move from you.
No longer will I be frailge.
No longer will I be sorry.
I am stone again.
Harder than most.
One day I will become a diamond.

A hail of hatred won't stop me,
A blockade of ******* won't either
So stop trying and leave me alone
Because neither will defeat me

One
You lie, lie, lie.
You hide your secrets in your eyes
For all the world to see.
You imagine I am home,
In my room, all alone.
The roses drop to the floor.
You’d forgotten I hate the thorns.

Two
And Peter shouted at Joanna,
“You don’t know what it’s like!
You don’t know what it’s like
To have scars all down your chest
To be on your bike half way across the Tay Bridge
At midnight
You don’t know you don’t know you will never know.”
And Joanna stood, and she stayed,
And she followed him out of the house to the restaurant
And she showed him she knew
And still he never came back.

Three
“This is the last time I’m asking you.
Come out of there.”
You’re hiding at the back of the wardrobe again.
Maybe they won’t see you.
Pretend they can’t see you.

Four
You say you’re sorry.
You can pull that face out of the bag exactly when you need it.
And you cheated John again
But that face means you’re lying.
You lie, lie, lie.
And John never ******* does anything.

Five**
And Rose walks out of the Med School
Wearing that pretty dress you bought her.
She’s crying to herself.
The noble thing to do would be to ignore it
But instead I walk up to you;
Call you out on that *******.
“Hurt her again; you hurt me.
And heaven knows you’ve done enough of that.”

There were innumerable days
Of waiting on my fortune
To magically change
And for love to seem
As if it does
In all the movies.

But honestly,
That's *******,
And I don't have time
To sit and wait.

It's a losing battle
To honestly hope
That my dream girl
Will rehab again.

I'm done playing games.

I'll walk out the door.

Today,
I grow the spine
You swore I never had,
And reclaim the heart
That I swore would collapse
Without you.

If I have to be the one
To break our promise
So be it.

It's time I started
Being happy
For me.

You're just the right person
to put me back together,
and make every tiny little piece fit.
But this isnt a puzzle
Its broken glass,
shattered so bad,
that some fragments are like sand
Each shard sharp enough
to draw blood

Even if
You somehow got past
The bigger, sharper moments
And laid them out on the table
They still wouldnt all fit together
Theres just certain
things that dissintegrated
when I was dropped from far too high
Far too young, to understand why
There are still things missing
That will never fill the gaps
Even all super glued stuck together
I cant help but notice the cracks
I'll never be anybodys
perfect shiny new baby doll
And that fact alone,
Continues to let me fall

But **** it all and **** it!
I'll smoke myself to sleep
Why do I need a warm body when I've got substances to keep me feeling like
Theres some kind of
sustenance to my exsistence
some sort of end all to this life long mission
For Ive never had the expectation to do anything academically ambitious
Or even societially accepted- even thats not much to gain.
My own mother cant accept the offspring shes produced, even to this day
And even if she started now, at this point, what could I really say?
Thank you for finally saying that after
all the ******* and yelling
and screaming and violence
its all just gonna be okay?
Like we could pretend we've had a relationship for years on years building
Just her showing a tad of affection
to me is a little chilling
I cant justify it if i tried
a hurricane inside
That being said
Its all just in my mind.

Face to face with a habitual liar
make your words  heard when you say
Hey you liar, your pants are on fire.
Save that ******* and pull yourself higher.

Use your words when they say
''Vote for me". Tell them
they can't change things and if they could
they make welcome the snipers bullet.

Use your words to heal the unhealthy
Let them know there is a better life
Everything changes like everything should,
when you begin to rearrange things
There's a greater possibility for good.

Shuffle your train of thought bearing witness to something worthwhile
Let go of the ****, throw it on the ground to help your garden grow.
When you see it for real you can be the winner, or at least place or show. Everyone will see the change, making it hard not to know.

Use you words to change the way of love
Let them know that they don't fall in love.
They only uncover the love that was always there.
Love isn't only in the air, love is ultimately everywhere.

Use your words when you have done another harm
You freedom begins with your follow-through,
Actions  have always spoken louder that words.
Without an action you only squawk like  hungry  birds.

Use your words to summon your creator,
knowing the truth of how selfish you are.
Ask for guidance, and leadership, every day, and in every way.
Remember we are kindred spirits, we are all one.
Let that attitude be the one way, the one way that you display.

you might try: like i have, used various translation
tools...
   but none can compete with investing in
a £20 book on a topic...
                            
                   not that i am boasting:
   can one boast about amassing a private collection
of books?
can one boast about amassing a private collection
of music records?
            
               maybe i should boast about having a library
card? or owning a radio?
perhaps i should boast about investing money
in stock of a cat food company?
   or... whatever it might be: a Ferrari?
                             property... perhaps i should
boast about that... a portfolio of properties
that i'm currently renting...          hypothetical: of course...

but the private library is very real...
   and the private music collection is also real...
i really can't believe in either the Christian or the Buddhist
sentiment for complete: abject: immateriality...

ever since i was a young boy...
my ****** ****** off in that great labour drain
after the collapse of the Soviet union...
(the intellectual drain came much later,
circa 2005)
                   so instead of a father from the ages
of 4 through to 8 i received phonecalls
and packages of gifts...

    one time: a Nintendo came...
   that very first type...
                  i used to be a sharing child...
all my neighbours came round and they played
and i played too but sometimes i just watched...
and as i watched i had this...
INDESCRIBABLE sensation in the tips of my
fingers: watching other people use my things...
it wasn't NUMBING it was:
TICKLING-NUMBING...

bewildering... as the Taoist says:
what are ignoble, yet must be depended on?
things...
         from that brilliant passage
being there and giving room...
                        hmm... it seems i've made full circle...
or rather... during the heat-wave i was lying
in the coolest place in the house come late morning...
and to my surprise i was lying
"upside down" (which is impossible when
you're laid on the floor)...

but then again: it isn't... i lay one way...
but when i woke up... through the heat...
i managed to do a 180° twist...
break-dancing in my sleep?
    i toppled a chair in the process (since the coolest
place in the house was beside the dining table
in the living room) - of note... my mother still
makes fun of me when i said as a child:

the civil room... the "living room" for me
was the CIVIL ROOM... pokój cywilny...
how else? you're not being civil in the bedroom,
certainly not in the bathroom nor the *******
kitchen... made sense to me back then
as it does now... nothing's changed...

      but it has truly been years! what a grand return
to my original lessons... i remember picking up
my first book on Tao...
                         back when i was a brat...
just turned into a teenager...
                 how many tribulations since then:
and i'm implying: intellectual adventures...
two years of Heidegger -

   how is it that people merely "read" books?
can people read-meditate?
                                   meditierenlesen?
well... for that to happen? Descartes construct
of the res cogitans and the res extensa has to
disappear... the self-narrative construct of the ego
has to disintegrate...
    the res extensa remains intact:
           hence my pseudo-schizophrenic experiences
of auditory hallucinations...
but... the res cogitans disappears and in its
place comes the RES VANUS...

and no: it's not a thing of vanity...
                                       it's a thing of vacuum...
mind you: dealing with this impoosion
and the rampant res extensa: that caused be some
worry... bilingualism helped...
and once bilingualism helped: came the adventure
into becoming a part-time polyglot...

with a fetish for the German language
and the Japanese script (although i still think
Korean... i still think Korean... is something special)

hmm... two years of Heidegger...
and the concept of dasein:
i always found that grammatically complicated...
oh... i understand the concept:
of concern... most modern people interpret it
via the acronym of F.O.M.O.:
fear of missing out...

                        but that's FALSE CONCERN...
that's not genuine (i wouldn't stretch it as
far as TRUE) concern... ergo: if it's not true
but false concern... i.e. it's not genuine:
then it's logically provable to simply call it
a FAKE concern... that's how synonyms and antonyms
work... with a sort of algebra-esque dynamic...

i tried to work around this un-grammatical
vision for some time...
i broke dasein up along several lines...
i even intruduced the very English hyphenation
of words... da-sein...
    but by doing so i couldn't but help myself
in having to think about introducing the "pluralism"
of the apostrophe S:             's

i.e. there's being...
                                  da ist sein...
hmm: what now? there's existence... there's also
non-existence...
                    no no... muddle muddle:
spaghetti entanglement...
       i need something simpler: something clarifying...

lo and behold!
in my de profundis nadir i remember standing
in a queue to the bank-machine with some guy...
randomly we chatted about "this that and the other"
when i exclaimed:
the best plan, is to have no plan...

Taoism was forever stirring in me...
my mind just supressed it for a while while
having to learn *******...
chemistry, history, French literature: *******...
my admiration of Ezra Pound soon disappeared...
he was a staunch anti-Taoist...
well: one must change to allow for "things"
to happen...

ah! and there it was... a lighthouse in one
of Edward Hopper's paintings...
everything Norman Bates implying...
    
                                                                     在

zai... or rather: zài                       right...
                 but how do you say that?
it's a grave-a: that indicator atop the A is just
that... this is where the English use of the apostrophe
(oh **** me... the English apostrophe
and the hyphen is probably the only chance
to see "orthography" in action in the English
language... the apostrophe and the hyphen
are the only "diacritical" marks in the English
language)

   zài?                                  it's za'i

no! the dot above the iota and the JOTTA
do not count: since they disappear when the letters
are elevated from first to in the middle...

but that Mandarin "character" up there?
that's my release from Heidegger's grasp...
it's the correctly grammatical concern of:
being there...
                         rather than there-being... concern...
blah blah...
     i'm either there: or i'm not...
i'm either concerned or i'm not...
like with the twin fires at the gateway of
the Thames...
one fire in Bexleyheath - south of her majestic
lake like stasis and Bermuda triangle tide in tide out
a river that behaves like a ******* sea...
and like a lake: just sitting there...
and a fire in Wennington: a village i tend to
sometimes cycle through... SIMULTANEOUSLY...

ha ha: a scene...
that boat scene with the fellowship going
down the river of Anduin...
two pillars of smoke: Isildur and Anárion...
it was amazing to watch: i must admit...
oh the heavenly: sometimes there's nothing one
can do but pay compliments as a terrible
narrator to what's happening...
or plagiarise... that's the worst:
then again... of the cyclic truths...
    must memory be eroded?
perhaps that's the original sin:
we would think we were the first...
and the only: EVER... in existence...
               we thought we would be special...
unique... the one Adam Schwarzstein
   among the many Adam Smiths...
                         i think that's original sin:
the sin of originality...
                            we either get offended or become
proud when someone copies us...
personally? i love the idea that people have
copied my way of cycling... actually making sure
that one is visible in the rearview-mirror
of a large truck...
    behaving like a REMORA to a bus that's a SHARK...
imitating bike-riders...
seriously: once i started to display my
"arrogance" when cycling in central London?
i haven't heard of any cyclist-deaths...
prior to? oh: you heard it all the time...

sure thing: copy me... after all... we've gone past
giving a **** about originality...
we're already contemplating if not already
establishing cloning... perhaps it doesn't simply
end with sheep: no... i haven't been living under
a rock: in h'america i already know people
are cloning their pets...

ha ha: the doubly original sin... the original original sin
   the originally original sin!
exactly! that's what happens to the intellect
when the heavenly and the inactivity by purpose
meet: inactivity and inactivity meet
and create activity with a focus for "dasein"
with outcomes of: thank **** i'm not there...
  t.f.i.a.n.t.   (defiant)...

                            i'm just happy i returned to the purist
Tao of old... Heidegger muddled the waters
a little... but... i have to admit...
the narrative increased my ability to concentrate
with a greater focus to not concentrate:
the dialectic of paradoxes / contradictions.

Yeah.
I often drink 10 beers
Alone
On nights like these.
And shadow box
Morales style
In the corner of my room
In the moonlight
Singing Lorca's screaming poems
And feeling Sartre's
Nothingness
I walk the streets of
Los Angeles
Like its ******* Ask The Dust 1939
Ignoring droids and hover boards
Flying right past me
All the good writers are dead.
And all the words are just ******* now.
Especially
Mine.

I just want you to know
I see you from the inside
And all the ******* and lies
You try your best to deny.

You might be fooling someone,
But not me, not this time.
You might be fooling the next guy,
But you’ll never again catch my eye.

These ******* winter months always chills me to the bone.
We would have been together by three years next month.
No one else has been able to keep my heart warm ever since.

My grandfather is slowly losing his mind and he can’t stay himself.
In just a few more years I’ll be entirely alone without a family.
Those Christmas decorations are like flashing neon signs at a funeral.

All of my holiday cheer is pure ******* it’s been a con for a long time.
The future approaching me is grim but I figure that I deserve all of this.
I’m used to dancing with the dead anyways.

“Merry ******* Christmas I might see you again next year.”
I told my reflection in the smudged mirror.

I hate her.
I hate her with all my heart I can’t stand
To see her face it makes me cringe
Every time she walks my
Fingers want desperately to curl around
Her neck and just
Feel her pulse against my palm as she
Starts to faint and lose her breath she
Begins to cry and I can’t help but smile
Seeing me hurt her just as much as
She hurt me with a knife to my back
******* if you think i’ll just
Forgive you after you
Act like such a ******* ***** and
Break your promise i squeeze
Harder and harder, my grasp
Around her neck gaining strength as
Anger fills my veins, the thick red paint of
Pure hatred fuels my heart and my head
Gives me only one single command that
Makes me laugh out loud
I am insanely intoxicated with a
Deep paroxysm and I cannot
Stop myself from laughing so giddily
I am smiling as the life fades from her eyes
And my fingers begin to lose their tight grip
And my laughter begins slacken
And my head begins to rid itself of the dark cloud
That once consumed my entire being
And i look at the ***** i have asphyxiated
And i smile
I am happy
I am at peace.

It's most likely just my ****** disposition
Picking flowers just to watch them wilt
Maybe I've just been wilting
Losing petals and color and life
I can't keep ahold of anything
Possibly just tearing out my own roots so no one else could do it for me
Tired of replanting myself and tired of trying to become acquainted to new soil
Adaptation is ******* and I don't want to play with change anymore but it's so ******* unfortunate how you usually have no choice or say in the matter, it's always so forced
Forced to change or sit in the ruines
And sometimes, I do
Sometimes I stay there until I can't breathe in anymore ash
Ether streaming to my lungs making its home there
Sometimes I stay there long after everyone has left and I sit in it as long as I can
Sometimes I leave before it can happen
Sometimes it never does
I tell myself it would have if I'd have stayed
It would have changed
Maybe it's just my ****** disposition
Telling me that no matter what changes I make
None of them will ever constitute as enough that your heart could ever feel the same as mine
Now it's pounding in my temples telling me that I'm wasting my time
Not enough, unloveable
Not enough for anyone, but you aren't just anyone
You're so much more and I have so much less than most
And then comes the rejection of the thought, the tantrum, the dissociation, the I don't need love, the I'd rather be alone my entire life than deal with the pain of loving someone like there was a knife pressed against me and having them shove it in
I don't need love
But no matter how long that last
I always want yours

I've been telling myself no
I'm trying not to write poems about you
Mostly, they're on other topics.
That's cool.
But buried beneath them, in the fibers of the words,
is something that cannot be destroyed
a stain I can't ******* wash out of my shirt
I tell myself the poems aren't about you
but that's *******.
They are all about you.
Every
single
one of them.

I feel gulped down Into a world that has nothing around
you go downtown where the walls are deep brown and see nothing but a play ground
And yet when I look into those caramel brown eyes I can’t help but get a nervous breakdown
As if I should belong in the upside-down, being the clown that’s crown for best frown because my emotions have been drowned from me. Nothing I do has ever been renowned if anything it did nothing but knock down the people I love and maybe that’s why i live in this ghost town. it ***** when you have to count all the sounds in your room and try to drown them into this noise of a large monotone so it wouldn’t surround your ears where your tears are forming in your brown eyes heading towards the ground, where you often stare when you walk around town.

As you can tell I suffer from depression. And I’m sure I’m not giving the best first impression, that sometimes I feel like I have to give this confession or else I’ll repress all this aggression that will later progress into a concern for a health profession. That all these intersection on my arms isn’t because of some ******* possession, it is because I am unfortunately depressed. And it *****, because sometimes you have these questions hoping you can find your answers. And then this becomes this odd obsession where you seek out progression to figure out what the hell is going on in your **** head. So you go into this skull session, seeking out what you need to figure out. So you pick out all your imperfections and going on this journey like the movie inception and soon enough you realized that all your thoughts, emotions, and **** storms melt downs was an infection that just invades your head and rejects all your connection with people at work, the people you love, the people at school. The ones you love, the ones you work with, the ones at school. See what I mean it ***** you have this deception of people believing no one will love you, it’s depressing to have to remind yourself constantly you have connection with people. We doubt ourselves too much.

I think it’s awareness, that’s the key. In all fairness people with depression don’t often look it. it comes in so many shapes and forms and that we would have to look out its whereness. People with depression are restless at night, thinking too too much about how undeserving they are. Feeling breathless all the time as if they’re drowning despite having nothing  but air around them. They’re careful when they hide their scars, their tears, their emotions because sometimes they’re selfless and they don’t want to hurt anyone else. We always ignore our own wellness, but we can’t help it.

Just
  save your *******
for someone
  you actually cared about

I'm sick of the world's *******
I'm sick of life's tragedies

But I'm in Love
But its not romantic
Its not living
Its not intimate

This Love I have
Is reserved for the drugs
That keep me alive.

lion lies
scorpion sighs
alone
your lies
plans kicked
words unsolvable
SO ******* SELFISH
your lies
just smile and nod
flatten myself
oh it's okay
being hurt is okay
a ***** heart is okay
your lies
thrift store shoes
heels
stomped into my sternum
your lies
hidden and masked
by tender kisses
that we both know
are absolute *******.

You built me up just to break me down.

What has it been?

one

five

two

a half

five

seven

none

none

three

none

I never thought I
Would have a miracle happen to me.
Never could a miracle
Such as amazing and awesome
As her happen to me.
But... It did.
And I thank god every day because--
I get to be hers and she gets to be mine
And she loves me,
She loves me!
And she tolerates me,
My body and my flaws, my mistakes.
She takes them stride by stride
Every day and for that I thank
My beautiful Disney princess miracle
For staying with me through
My ******* for one year and three months.
I love you baby. ❤️❤️

I want to wake up in bed in the
land of the free and know
what it is to be me,
I want
a living wage,
a roof over my head,
a self respect and not to
feel as if I'm being pecked to death by
the vulture
employer.

To this end
I employ a variety of devices, but to no avail, I am being set up and thus I fall and I fail and the rich ******* get richer on the backs of the workers.

Revolution's no solution,
that's just a pollution of the mind,
I need to sit down and communicate
that a higher rate of pay to pay for necessities I need today will only make me see what it is to be free when I'm me and I'll work just as well when I'm not foraging for scraps, but they'll tell me, 'we can't afford it'
and I know that's *******.

So I do a bit and a bit's all I'll do,
whatever I do
nothing gets through to them.

What a perfect vision dancing on the water,
At least that’s what I heard
Nice to meet you and your daughter
No I won’t take her hand she’s not wearing any gloves
I don’t subscribe to plastic people
Because I’m a marble of a man
Take your diamonds and your silver
I would have **** on it anyway
Metal people shouldn’t be bought
There so unreliable
If I need something to love
Id buy a dog

Stimulate me, Make me Crazy
Please do something with my brain
Cuz if you can’t
I’ll buy some Mary Jane
Have a party
And **** your best friend all night long
You think your perfect
You daddy says your Pretty
Honestly I think you look like a cow
A stain glass windows
Is Still a window
When it comes crashing down

Is that your baby
Its ******* ugly
You should really go complain to the dad
So you say I’m and alcoholic
When I’ve just been ******* **** all night
Try and judge me
Cast a stone
That’s why the doctor gave you zanxe
People are a fickle thing
Always singing about ***
Honestly I could care less
Just leave your  underwear when you go

Rock my body, and My soul
Give me faith in mankind
Because I just snored some aderales
And rainbows are now my friends
You act like a sterling sculpture
When in reality your just a pile of rocks
A door is still a door
Even without the hinges

I see you
You see me
***** get out of the way
I have to keep up with the Jones’
Because I think there sons got it going on
Hay **** you still there
I thought I told you to leave

Red is my world, green is my heart
Its all really ******* anyway
Flowers are dyings
The worlds already deads
Lets just play ring around the rosie
Because after all
A worlds still a world
Without your “GOD”