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"kra" poems
if, somehow, you could see how high & dense your fortified groves has gotten you wouldn't be asking me why i'm trying to get to you like a giraffe gets to the leaves in the trees, because your barrier is like barb wire tangled around your wrists and, almost like a failed lobotomy, you're as mad as a hatter, and the ribbons that tied us together tightly unwoven it's knot, and i'm so careful in finding the pieces of worn bricks to tear down and not break you in the process the fear left me restless, without a doubt, you get helpless after a while and start believing that sandpaper and silk are similar, but they aren't textured the same in reality, yet who even really knows what is wrong and what is right? maybe the puzzle pieces get worn over time and they're not even considered to be pieces to a puzzle anymore, it's like putting together a falling apart pie - kra
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Jan 31, 2014
Jan 31, 2014 at 1:02 PM UTC
standing upon giraffes
"silence is worse; all truths that are kept silent become poisonous.”friedrich nietzsche like poking the hornet's nest with a stick, you are a rose with stems and thorns so thick, your skin is protection from oppression, keeping the world out of your private channels like i'm AM and you're FM all of which are static with distorted voices only science can pry through your enigmatic cacophony on a molecular level, and any evidence of who you are, i couldn't find with years of knowledge, a indestructible ship could speak more evidence about why it was annihilated, obliterated, disintegrated under the ocean for months at a time without any current survivors, and the last person i could be described as would be Sherlock Holmes every detail washes over my head like a flood of details that can't enter because a force field surround my head like it's a crown being so clueless, but it feels like i'm wearing a dunce hat and maybe i do realize that there will be a position where you will be put out into light there is no way out of your mind, like a schizophrenic, if kryptonite killed superman, can it **** the infectious virus spreading like wildfire through these veins, can you stop worrying about when you will finally break down and open up to someone? **** - kra
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Dec 9, 2013
Dec 9, 2013 at 10:13 PM UTC
dysFUnCtional Kryptonite
my spine curves towards you as if you were the sun's rays and i am a meeble flower and i wouldn't wish it any other way. people tell me that this love has it's own dictator, that the gaps between my ribcage isn't supposed to be filled with fire. it's like giving a child whiskey for the soul. this is a risk i am willing to take onto myself. i heard that broken bones grow back stronger, so the bones in my arms are in the process of mending their broken state so for a little while longer, i can blacksmith the areas that need to be fixed. some days, i tend to worry about placing this fire back into my heart but something tells me that this long journey of let downs and over thinking almost constantly is like summer vacation: it is finally over. as fall enters, everything will fall back into place. - kra
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Jul 22, 2014
Jul 22, 2014 at 11:55 AM UTC
blacksmith first aid kit
as an astronaut, I spun on a rotary around the core of your existence like you were the gravity that held me to the ground but kept me on my toes if home is where the heart is, i'm coping with this unbearable homesickness and I know my heart has an anarchy government, living a steel toed rebellion but these relentless thoughts about you have gotten bad again, i don't sleep my reckless behavior let loose, like a dog off his chain and collar and i revisited the places you always talked about, how i dreamed to be there with you recovering those lost feelings, and rebellion was assisting me in the mind of my teenage angst, no autobiographies could be more authentic than the hatred for this unrequited swelling i held in my heart without a doubt, you're featured in my dreams more than nightmares you couldn't be more real than the books that I hold in my hands i'm sleeping in water filled with sharks calling me a tedious terrorist entering their territory, leaving me with absolutely nothing just build a bridge, get over it, if you have to, revisit my mind maybe you'll see everyone is the enemy, not everyone is perfect -kra
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Nov 11, 2013
Nov 11, 2013 at 10:16 PM UTC
re- prefixes
Pyaar to kai trha k hote h Mgr na jaane hmara ye ksa pyaar h Pyaar k to kai naamo ko ME btadu Magar smjh NH aata ki hmare is pyaar ko ME kya naam du Jo kbhi hsata h to kbhi rulata h Kabhi naraj krta h to kbhi mnata h Or jb shk krta h to uske agle hi Pal khud se jyada ykin krne lgta h Agr khuda b aa kr hmare is pyaar ko byaan krne ki koshish kre to shyd vo b nakamyab ** Kuki hmara pyaar vo nhi jo lfzo ME byaan ** Pta h mera dil bht ziddi h.. Hmesha ek hi zid krta h Khta h ki vo tumse milna chahta h. Tumhare kareeb hone ka ahsas mhsus krna chahta h tumhari baaho ME jo sukoon milta h vo sukoon mhsus krna chahta h Tmhari aakho ME aakhe daal k tumse bt krna chahta h Tumhara haath thamna chahta h Lekin me usko daat k chup kra deti hn Mgr kya kru yr apne aasu rok NH paati hn ** ske to Mj cchor k kbhi mt jana Kuki agr tum mj cchor k chle gye to me apni rooh ko NH smjha paungi ki ab b jism ME ruk jana Agr Tmko mjse door jaana b pde to khud ko kbhi akela mt smjhna Me US lmha tmhare aas paas hi hongi mj mhsus kr k dkhna Hr Pal dr lgta h tmhe kho dene se Mgr phr khudko smjhati hn ki is janam nhi to kya hua, agle janam kon rok skta h tmhe mera ** dene Se Me nh janti ki hmara saath kb tk h Mgr itna jaanti hn ki hmari rooh ek tb tk h suraj chand jb tk h..
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Jun 22, 2020
Jun 22, 2020 at 11:37 AM UTC
Humara pyaar
you draw your self hatred out like a kid draws out small pictures and play double dutch with the hands on a clock, knowing how unsafe it is out there, flirting with death and flicking me off when i wrote out the reasons why you should stay, that this autumn fallout is only a misconstruction of your mind's witching hour, that dystopia won't linger and utopia will be home soon, it will blossom into your lungs and turn the simplicity of your broken soul into something completely quintessential and complex, like an origami rabbit, i fold my sharp edges and twist myself to be malleable and secure for you, maybe i'm not too certain of myself or you, but i'm not too certain on a lot of subjects, i'm worried of being thrown into the arsonist world you started, covering up the sky with black dense fog, the type of fog that would happen only in dangerous wildfires i'm a controlled wildfire, but i let my fire spread just to help control your fire - kra
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Jan 22, 2014
Jan 22, 2014 at 5:23 AM UTC
origami rabbits
i'm an empty optimistic in a world where lost souls remain we're all threaded together by birth, given the consequences but what are we without an upper and a even worse downer those who survive the downers, sometimes never get back up did you feel the connection, like our roots locked together like we were handcuffed in familiarity, but you are as recognizable as my own heartbeat and it seems so natural, when you sing without the blissful harmony we used to sing together in unison, careless and carefree, and my heart is eroding day by day, would you still be able to swim if i taught you when i could and would you still be able to speak if i paid attention to you as i should but you inflict your pain back at others, is that how our world survived with the wildlife and it's fires, burning our only chance at safety, but i tried to extinguish the devastation and i'm a shapeless survivor with reasons to seek, **** and destroy in a way, does this make me the hero of the story, stripping the evil down? if you forgave me, i would be able to forget because i'm still carrying your world on my shoulders, and even though hearing your name makes me sick to my stomach, my body will refuse to give in to the peer pressure if i winded the hands of a clock, could i possibly strip your walls down still or could i stop caring and get revenge, which could possibly be a thrill -kra
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Nov 10, 2013
Nov 10, 2013 at 10:27 PM UTC
healing herds
in my dreams, I found your voice whispering my name it was so quiet, just like you, throwing your secrets in the grave silent euphoria covering the tension in my muscles and veins releasing the strenuous stress, but my blood still runs white white sunlight running through me and my thoughts run to you it's like an natural instinct, a second skin, a cause to the effect you peer into my windows and the realization why was a slap in the face ironic because I fell into the same guilty pleasure that you did your spring and summer lasted me a few years, but winter came love hibernated back into it's cave, built it's castle and lava moat haphazardly scattered ghost starve in the back of an abandoned alley looking for a map out of this godforsaken eath but they can't leave not without a sign pointing them in the right direction, but i always turn left it's like we were related by blood, but our blood learned to squander my fingertips shake violently, do you realize how badly i need you anxiety was taking every inch of my body and collapsing my lungs i'm searching for a needle in a haystack and it's been found already i'm looking for a key to the locked door but my hands are empty i'm peering through an opening to find any source of hope for us and i come up empty every single time. -kra
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Nov 13, 2013
Nov 13, 2013 at 5:26 PM UTC
second skin
my jewels bestowed onto me are hanging from my dead limbs like a noose, but due to my inferior intellect, these delusional gods will bring me to hell's gates for the world's stigma on my definition of jewels has a red stamp with the words WARNING on it, my dull inane shadow cannot compare to the hundreds suffering in the same recession i am, mouths are speaking to me, but my ears aren't listening, like once the repeated record from you plays, a sound proof room surrounds the vicinity and intrudes the space between you and me, my body is not translucent, i was carved out of marble but vines and weeds entangled my crevices and made me grotesque this dystopia people are telling me about that i live in is a utopia to myself i'm near the condition of declining into a whirlwind of nothing and i'm fine with it, as long as Holden Caulfield catches me when I fall into the rye alone - kra
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Jan 8, 2014
Jan 8, 2014 at 5:16 AM UTC
god complex
the quietest words are the loudest       knowledge and open eyes to the real world                            through prose i speak and speak alone                                            nobody encouraged me to be outspoken                                                           i was a shut-in, trapped for months                                                              like anne frank, with only power in writing                                                                      i found power in words, nobody taught me                                                                                    how to live, but i learned how to exist in                                                                                a world lost in it's sin, a mediocre society                                                                          lost in it's power of indulgences and faith                                                                    with paper and pen, i can capture honesty                                                     the most brutal tragedy, the most beautiful love                                       i've never felt intense fear, like hanging off a cliff fear                                but i've been pushed to that cliff one too many times                      i've always been scared of heights and losing someone                but my fears are all in my head, my heart is power          my heart is courage, my heart is love it is the first and last thing i have - kra
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Dec 6, 2013
Dec 6, 2013 at 1:14 AM UTC
the diary of me
the quietest words are the loudest       knowledge and open eyes to the real world                            through prose i speak and speak alone                                            nobody encouraged me to be outspoken                                                           i was a shut-in, trapped for months                                                              like anne frank, with only power in writing                                                                      i found power in words, nobody taught me                                                                                    how to live, but i learned how to exist in                                                                                a world lost in it's sin, a mediocre society                                                                          lost in it's power of indulgences and faith                                                                    with paper and pen, i can capture honesty                                                     the most brutal tragedy, the most beautiful love                                       i've never felt intense fear, like hanging off a cliff fear                                but i've been pushed to that cliff one too many times                      i've always been scared of heights and losing someone                but my fears are all in my head, my heart is power          my heart is courage, my heart is love it is the first and last thing i have - kra
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apologies blow into my face like the cherry blossom trees are shedding their sakura petals, or like being held at gun point. honestly, i'm not sure if i should see apologies as wedding vows or as benign threats to my existence. the way i see it, they didn't **** my parents and that means i don't have to feel empathy with fictional characters like batman. then again, i should ask myself if i do deserve the apology. for the type of complex character i've developed into, i realized how self-absorbed i've been, seeing how i have compressed the chests of people just like me without reason. and for that, i apologize. - kra
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Apr 11, 2015
Apr 11, 2015 at 1:57 PM UTC
egoistic erosion
1. i watched you eradicate the ruby roses from your skin with razors, you told me they just needed to be set free, they were just doves in a cage needing freedom. 2. i heard that hibernation lasts only during winter but it's spring, doesn't the flowers learn to pick up their spines to the sun and reach for the skies? 3. i'm not sure which part of my heart is revealed to you, but it must be a revolting sight. my apologies. 4. my heart is 50% happy/ 50% sad like living at the bottom of the world, where i get night time six months a year and day time six months a year. 5. this web you've strung me in has me tangled in semi- impossible knots but i would take all the time in the world to detangle the vines from you and let you continue growing. 6. the weight of my heavy armory prevented me from swimming in the sickening waters, so i screamed "forget me not" at you. i'm not so sure you heard me or if you just ignored my screams. 7. your pianists fingers let me slip through your fingers slowly like motor oil or pancake syrup, but i'm sure you washed off the parts of me that stuck onto your fingers. 8. HERE IS YOUR ULTIMATUM: LEAVE OR STAY. 9. survival relies on the fittest, but i'm anything but fit for helping you survive. let me bandage every scar, even though you're not going to be the same person afterwards. 10. forever is an overused term, but i will never forget the side of you that shined the brightest and made the sun jealous. - kra
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Mar 6, 2014
Mar 6, 2014 at 1:25 AM UTC
the forget-me-not project
we start out in the middle of a spider's web, where doors surround us that lead to grassy roads and rocky roads, difficult to maneuver through, but i've walked on burning coals and left my fingers bleeding from scratching at your door like a dog abandoned in the winter frost, because i felt more secure with the honors of you destroying my house built out of marshmellows and toothpicks, and i don't want you half empty or half full, i want you coloring inside and outside the lines overflowing the spaces of my heart you occupied and called home, but i'm responsible for raining on your parade and shattering your soul, but even i know all these ways of binding you to myself with glue, duct tape, stitches, gum, staples, paperclips, knots, can't keep under wraps for long, so i will let my clouds swell with compassion you couldn't understand because you're the flashlight in my haunted forest, shining a light on any ghosts that seem damaging to myself because you've always been there to guide me back home and keep me from falling from grace headfirst, but mother nature decides what sickening plot twist will destroy us, and you know i can't control the disgusting weather but i wish i could. - kra
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Dec 15, 2013
Dec 15, 2013 at 9:48 PM UTC
falling from grace headfirst
how you defined me is extinct in the wild. i'm still not sure if you meant that i am the last of my kind or if i was the only thing you had left to swallow and with distaste you spit me out like i was dish washing soap slathered onto your tongue. even though you were right, that i am all i will have left in the end, i still never saw you look upon me like i was special just because i am going extinct, one day at a time. - kra
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May 10, 2014
May 10, 2014 at 3:39 PM UTC
swallows
the world is a machine built of scorpions and wolves, praying for sleep and soft lullabies. the wheels and knobs turn endlessly, recklessly howling at the stars for it's desirable solace, like ghosts stuck on earth preying on others for revenge for being sentient puppets tangled in the strings, thrashing in their thoughts, stuck in a everlasting cycle carrying around burdens like a courier through dense forests and vast wastelands, burning bridges and bibles and throwing gasoline upon the architectures built up and setting them on fire but i feel hands of fear at my ankles, pulling me into the restless ocean with a pulsating ache, wolves howl from the insides of my barren stomach and making them be quiet is difficult, if duct tape worked, it would help these knives for fingers cut through anything, but it can't cut through you - kra
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Dec 21, 2013
Dec 21, 2013 at 2:35 PM UTC
how to get past dying, a novel
these chandeliers were home to roses, now fallen petals on this abandoned courtyard short handed late traced steps and short lived excitement, we are concentric beings filled with the same steadfast frame of mind, brick by unnerving bricks tower over burnt down villages, this love found in fairytales doesn't truly exist in real life there's a hot wired circuit around my blighted mind, suffering from dementia, or was the diagnosis faith in this fantasy world i created with vivid metaphors and words i cannot pronounce, just to get across the fact that i believe in this type of coping mechanism, that this silence is the most clearest my mind's ever been at the lowest level of the food chain is where i sit, waiting to be swallowed and spit out into a world with the core being torrid obsidian matching the color of the asphalt where i once laid and the color of people's hearts i've met over the years, serendipity is nonexistant just like chivalry although i really wish there was such a thing as chivalry in real life - kra
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Jan 6, 2014
Jan 6, 2014 at 4:10 AM UTC
404: not found
three words and eight letters fell in between the cracks of your fingers like sand, not even realizing you were holding my heart somewhere in there as it conjoined with the earth my stem grew sixteen feet in all directions and grew sixteen feet tall, with branches that holds photographs of memories i've forgotten about already, like waters that don't cease with waves that drag you under like hands at your ankles but people don't drag you down, our past drags us down the darkness isn't full of nightmares but it's not so clean either we were not careful enough, i thought we couldn't sink in dangerous water but the past dragged you down the depths and shallows of it's cold grotto. i wish i had a sixth sense perception, become a wallflower, a housefly, eyes watching from the very corners of their eyes, visible enough to remind you, i exist. i am very real and i am finally starting to shake off the waves and grime and shout through my words. - kra
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Dec 6, 2013
Dec 6, 2013 at 12:51 AM UTC
sixth sense sight
like a seesaw, there is a nonexistant stable foundation, only yes and no answers you are a rhetorical question and an untested hypothesis, but this is all wrong this army wasn't meant to stir in it's wake, and this was a natural homecoming that could only end in some complex disaster, and my roots were torn from home, swiftly kidnapped, finding eagerness in the idea of you and the solace you bring i am acutely aware that you could bend me into whatever you wished, a bow on your tree something proud that you can show everyone, but i'm scared of being treated less than deserved like a crumpled up idea on paper that was never meant to be shown with the answer, solution, counterclaim written in permanent black marker, forevermore never changed in my eyes, i merely forgotten about the acid reflex i'd get after i was given a finalized ultimatum, forgotten how to see in color because my brain can only remember you in monochrome, but you're so vivid in my head, there's no way someone like you could be just smoke and mirrors, i've read and folded every page of your autobiography to save for later whenever i needed some peace of mind. - kra
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Dec 15, 2013
Dec 15, 2013 at 9:38 PM UTC
asymmetrical
you hold me on wires by my spine like i'm a puppet and you're the puppeteer, the wires dancing out of orbit as similar as power lines wrestling a storm or electrons that are never at a certain point at any time. your misaccuracy reminds me of a pinpoint on a map because it never touches the destination on point, and i absorb the attention you provide like polymer gel ***** with water, but you are the most unstable puppeteer i've ever known, smiling through smoke and blindfolding me covering me in black and blue camoflauge throwing me in the fire, drowning me in the deep depths of the ocean, and laughing as i sink in denial and crave the inevitable let down - kra
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Feb 4, 2014
Feb 4, 2014 at 4:10 AM UTC
puppeteer
my mind is like firecrackers explodes with thoughts of you. - kra
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Jul 4, 2014
Jul 4, 2014 at 10:53 PM UTC
firecrackers (10w)
people's eyes are like constellations, wherever you go they will be there during sunlight and sundown, picking out flaws like they pick out food on menus finding the crack in the liberty bell, finding Venus de Milo’s lack of arms, like flowers, we wilt without rain, and we are so ashamed of being imperfect, but why do we run from the rain? can we not accept reality and believe fantasy is a much more powerful sense of comfort than believe in the bizarre judgement the earth has provided for us, the most grandeur hearts are the heavily scarred and bruised, because what are we without our flaws? we aren't boring. - kra
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Jan 15, 2014
Jan 15, 2014 at 1:22 AM UTC
wabi-sabi
insomnia is my best friend, it's molded into my bones because the world never sleeps and the bats know me by name. i ripped the lights out of the sky with the sharp teeth i bear to collect the stars to stick onto my bedroom ceiling. the sky is a black hole, almost like a tornado or mouth ready to throw me off my feet, and i'm faint i can't tell the difference between sympathy, empathy, and apathy anymore only because i was never good at recognizing faces covered in masquerade masks. my nightmares aren't about dinosaurs and aliens anymore, because fantasy is what i've become accustomed to. reality terrifies me, we are living in our past, our present, and our future, and my social anxiety is getting bad again to the point where i lost track of time at night overthinking too much over simple things - kra
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Feb 2, 2014
Feb 2, 2014 at 4:24 AM UTC
internal insomnia monologues
i don't believe in the hypocritical moralistic dogma of this so-called civilized society everyone is finicky, demanding, and ignorant, like society runs on their selfish need humanity is unhealthy, diseased, deceived by the smoke and mirrors of propriety starving poets living off their art, starving celebrities living off their titanic sized greed and people wonder why we have criminals who will do anything to get away with crime if everyone saw the real side of people, trust would be another delusional superstition guilt is like spiders crawling onto your naked skin and onto your famished spine some people believe they are the bricks to rebuild a home with ammunition we are force fed trust in these strangers in a extremely vulnerable habitat like a bird's feathers clipped off, we are unable to fly, unable to breathe like an army without weapons, we are unprepared for the sudden combat like a witches cauldron, the brain's contents bubble and seethe -kra
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Nov 16, 2013
Nov 16, 2013 at 1:31 AM UTC
folie à plusieurs
the first law of thermodynamics speaks: energy cannot be created nor destroyed hypothetically, there must be some type of energy created between two people though this winter has lasted a few years, natural vagabonds are asunder, seeking warmth for years, we were condemned to search for that other half of us to keep us alive we want someone who will grab our shoulders at the edge of a steep cliff we want someone who will appreciate the small things, like drinking tea together if our atoms bisect and travel alone someday, i want to know i felt that fear of love that loss is the kindest of suicides, it empties the entrails which scatters through the walls and the ribcage grows a garden of dead plants and a unlimited drought occurs god knows when the clock will stop ticking in my chest and my soul goes west -kra
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Nov 14, 2013
Nov 14, 2013 at 3:16 PM UTC
kindest of suicides
the surgical procedure required to probe into your skull is way too difficult for me. how difficult is it to learn how to examine the thoughts you conjure up, like arithmetic or magic. the stem cutters to pull the dead roots out of you are dull, like the color of dead coral or fishes that don't see sunlight. maybe the fishes just don't swim to the surface too often. if i would have seen your arsenal and armory before i dedicated every inch of my pointless existence of a heart to you, every hour of my life wouldn't hold disdain and regret for you. the only difference between us and a car crash was that the shrapnel and glass was our shattered memories. the hairline fractures that are burned into my wrist's bones have turned into full blown fragments eradicated from the ligaments. i've seen fall, winter, spring, and summer meet all in the same day because of you. you are an impossible calculation, a lobotomy no pet scanner can recognize. - kra
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May 10, 2014
May 10, 2014 at 7:20 PM UTC
hairline fractures