I'm uninspired,
and this is incomplete.

I've gone under words
and into dreams

Nothing seems interesting
or I can't understand it

An inadequate poem perhaps
rather, an unqualified writer

Not only unwilling
but also incapable

This shall go unnoticed
so completely indistinct

I'm inconclusive, and this is unfinished.

i'm two traits converged into one messy finger painted paradox
a disposition to do good, but i have maleficent intentions set in
stone, my mind shows me how i look in the mirror but the threads
of my body are like looking through a window, then again, who isn't
wondering about the reality other people hide like a facade, cleverly
subdued and sinking me in cold water until the ice is all i've ever known
love is a difficult topographic setup, unable to be evened out
inconsistant roads and treasonous dead ends bother me because
it's potential to break my interior and exterior, but what do i
matter? sticks and stones don't bother me, it's the words that
break my bones and assist my architecture i carefully built
along with my empire built from my bare hands to tumble
haphazardly out of my reach, pulling these weights along my
feet for some type of hope that things will finally become clear

- kra

Meaningless to you
Priceless to me.

An inconsistant tug-of-war
consistently tugging on my
heart's open door.

A fight I cannot win,
another loss added
to my record.

I sit alone
weeping.

You see,
you stare.
Surrounded by new friends,
better friends.
People more like you than I,
people you like more than I.

I've confessed
my love.
You shrugged.
I've proclaimed
my love.
You left me cold.

I've lost the fight for
your friendship,
your love.

Petals land on dancing ripples,
Echos of tiny drops,
Each holding stories of

Life

Love

Loss

Tiny circles of consequence cross and intertwine
Like two inconsistant lovers,
Crashing and fleeing in beautiful chaos.

Can we come and go so easily?
Each life touched will forever be changed,
The ripples left warped and inconsitant when we go.
But with each new drop, the ripples strengthen, whole again, for a moment more.

Eternal cycles
Follow through the flow of time as one becomes another.
Kindness through a single drop can change the way another lands.
And such, we shape the future.

O'er these puddles we will tread,
A waltz to celebrate the time we have.
Our days a short and living thing,
Intertwined in rings.

I told her she reminds me
of a bird chirping at 1am
and she never asked why,
strange yet beautiful,
inconsistant and seldom,
appreciative upon scarcity,
a hedonist of silence
has never found serenity
in the blurred lines of infinity,
but the confidence of
clamour will fade
with every night a chirp
goes unheard,
the consistency
of inconstancy is the hand
that feeds and the
bite that bleeds.              MJB

I am ambitious.
Although many have doubted me in the past, I have always came up to prove them wrong.
Stereotypes do not define my capacity nor my drive.
Everyday I choose to strive for a greater life in order to become exceptional.
I choose to be concealed.
Not everyone deserves to know who I am and what I've been through.
My silence hides many traumas and horrors that words cannot simply explain.
For I have lived and learned much more than most of the people my age.
I learn about myself every day.
At night, I tend to stay up and discover a new attribute or pet peeve.
Every time I look at myself in the mirror the person that looks back at me is someone different and my perspective continues to change as I evolve.
As I learn about the world around us I grow as an individual and form my own thoughts and opinions.
     I am lifeless.
I have succumbed to what I've become.
With drive and aspirations comes failures and downfalls that have taken a toll on my lonely life.
They say successful people are always the loneliest so I guess this is a good sign.
Considering I walk through this Earth with an apathetic and pessimistic outlook on “life”.
     I find comfort in pain and sorrow.
Some might consider me a ******* or even a sadist of some form but I find comfort in the pain from within.
I have discovered that whenever I am at my lowest I think the brightest and learn the most because I am susceptible to it all.
Unlike most, I don't mind the agony because it opens my horizons to the dark spectrum that lies behind the human lie.
     I try to convince myself that there is some type of freedom in loneliness.
No matter how much I strive to fit in with a certain group of people I shall always be considered an outsider.
As a free spirit I roam this world with an open mind and a broken heart because no matter how much I try, I will never fill the void and lonesomeness in my heart.
However, my loneliness will lead me to something greater than myself.
     I am whimsical and delusional.
I laugh and giggle with the world because if I didn’t what else would I have to live for?
My friends tend to describe me as comical because of my random jokes and lightheartedness when it comes to casual occurrences.
At times I find myself laughing at my tragedies and endeavors because that is the only way that I can let go and laugh hysterically as I ignore the darkness for only a couple of relieving seconds.
I am writing this with a heavy heart on my fifth Mother’s Day without a mother.
Her spirit lives within me, but it does not stop the depression and nostalgia from taking over my mind.
I truly loved her to death and so she will forever be my muse for I have grown up to fill her shoes in a different time period with a different story.
She was no artist but she unknowingly set up a blank canvas for my life that she has outlined for me to stay on the right path and inside the lines.
I am deceiving.
My father believes I live my life without a care, but little does he know.
I have mastered the art of deception, seeing as we live in a cold, cold world, one must use this art to bring joy to those that still have a reason to smile and rejoice.
Not all of us were meant to see the world with true eyes, the world with all it's ambiguous holes and obscure corners.
But the few of us that are the selected must learn to live with the curse of realism and must learn to conceal our pain in order to bring others happiness because in the end, some of us have to bring bliss to this never ending cycle of torment.
I will not be changed.
Society binds our souls to a certain mold we must fill but I refuse to be restrained.
Individuality is the most crucial aspect of humanity and must remain inconsistant and always changing in order to evolve.
My own persona is dark and mysterious and that is acceptable because there is a spirit out there that perceives nothing but positivity for the both of us.
I am an agnostic.
Not full on atheist of course, my catholic background prevents me from completely denying the existence of a greater being.
However, my love for science raises a sense of uncertainty because due to my own beliefs, it is nearly impossible for the human mind to find sufficient evidence to justify irrational occurrences.
I find myself a praying to a God that I hope is real, pleading for help and telling myself that there is a life after this to comfort my pain when deep inside of me I know that there’s probably only an abyss of nothingness.
Where was God when my mother was dying in front of me at the age of twelve? As spiritual as going to church may be to a few, I find comfort in personal experiences.
I am an human rights activist.
Is it so radical to believe in basic human rights?
I refuse to see color, religion or defects because there is not a certain way to live your life.
I will ALWAYS fight for what is right and I refuse to be a bystander in any type of discrimination or heinous act against those who simply cannot defend themselves or are too scared to do so.
I will be their voice.
I chose to not be oppressed.
As a minority life is not quite as jolly as one might imagine because although it isn’t superficial, there is underlying prejudice that can be portrayed with simply a look.
Although it pains me to be around such bigotry and ignorance is I REFUSE to let it affect me and who I am.
I am Mexican, a foreigner in this country of immigrants, but my nationality does not hinder my drive, instead it pushes me to strive for substance and improvement for both me and my people.
I am petrified.
In a couple of months I will find myself in another city, another city, foreign to my own. So similar yet so different.
I am completely terrified of what the world has in store for me because it might not be what I envision, and that has the capacity to break me once more.
Nonetheless, I chose to strut through my existence with a golden blindfold that doesn’t restrict me but instead surprises me with the unexpected and comforts me with the unknown.  
I am a writer.
And no, not only a writer on occasions when I have a school assignment.
I am a writer early in the morning, late at night and spontaneously in the afternoon.
Many of my pieces are obscure and somber, but as a fanatic of the great Pablo Neruda, my collection also includes pieces that speak of tenderness and infatuation.
I am the change in the world.
I convey a darkness so opaque that the general public is incapable of seeing the bright light I carry with me as well.
My persona has a wide variety of understanding for all types of perspectives because to me, perspective is the difference between true knowledge and a fabricated scheme.
I will make a difference in this world, whether it affects a single person or a multitude because my endless knowledge and kindness will allow me to leave my footprint and impact others even if it takes the rest of my eternity.