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

- kra

she was
an artist
of her
own twisted
kind of art

she paints
with razors
instead of paintbrushes
and her skin
as the canvas

she cuts open
her wrists
hoping her sadness
will leave
her system tonight

she slowly drags
the blade
across her skin
freeing her
bottled up sadness

she found
a healing
in the process
of wounding herself

feelings in the
form of blood
leaving her soul
flowing out
of her

CONJECTURL AMBIT

      
The earliest thought- I was a blind rock: mineral feeling of an uncut idol, my pressed wings induce a false sleep. I don't trust me as part of a building because my frozen nerves are still related to ****** business and my stability depends on old things' roots. Like a snail in the memory's spiral I make slow circles in a Levantine tower, living places are overlapping to form an upright native land, a growing mirror with all my moments in a wintery evangelical succession, annular heads raising from a well where peoples' liquid mind mix. I can hardly bear it, wearing fancy clothes I try to cover the mythological Meat, the inhuman side of the flesh, the anatomic stains. Drinking tea I clean my conscience, oh, lovely furniture and fine art objects, do you realize that I'm completely happy in your  abstract presence? Do you realize that you keep my eternity in precious fragile eggs? You bloom at the end of the matter, you touch the other sky, the brown heavy sky polished by silvery cats-indefinite slippery  ideas about beauty, the intimate effort of a deeply ploughed woman in order to cicatrize herself. The meadow's malachite door is open, I can see the primary glaucos mass of terrible friends, butterfly marrow, the  viscous veins of raw angels, my negative steps under the ruined house, our unforgettable bodies swimming in the magma. So, I'm a resting beast   between fish and bird, nothing is totally seen or totally heard, this light Protection, the transparent humanism is the only glamour of the organism

you have to hurt to heal,
there's no other way out.
You have to hate to let go of love,
You have to change to love yourself,

We track the oblique, sly fireflies
that keep popping fitfully by.

While life swarms invitingly by the side
we remain rabidly hustling
recklessly trailing
those brusque cracking stars
      ...shifty, deceptive, volatile
in onyx-bronze, raven nights

❋

We: the tenderfoot novice
bulldozed on many a graceless trip
half-cocked, peripheral, ******
and profoundly ill with pitiful

short-sight.

Afterwards, we will dolefully miss our unlived days
and stay vainly entrenched in unskillful, effete ways
to discard stiff hangovers and to naively refill
famished days-before-today

      with crackpot mirth and being oddly spry.

❋

Like an enduring remorse, life trickles aside
bequeathing wounds that refuse to cicatrize.
and now towards this passing eventide
there is no volte-face
no dice.