this house is a cage for the deceitful lovers
and a loony bin for the normal. to call this
a shelter, protecting and comfortable, is
laughable. this house was made out of
all skin and no bone. the notion of losing
yourself to these white lies, to see yourself
put on a face unfamiliar, is a tragedy. i found
skeletons in the closets and blood coming out
of the bathroom sink faucets. i found black
widows underneath mattresses, scorpions hiding
between folds of the covers i sleep on. to feel
the opposite of reassuring in what plays itself
to be a warm house, is terrifying. i plan on
turning white, becoming the very lies so they
become true. the destiny of my lies built a
house of sand, and i’m being slowly swallowed
whole by the sands. i hide behind eight masks,
all to cover up my seven deadly sins. there is
unrest in this house. a monster lives here, i see
the blood everywhere i look and the scratch marks.
why does the monster only attack me and leave
more unnecessary scars? why does he make a
home in this house, put on my face, and walks
around like the floorboards aren’t the same quick
sand that dragged him into its grasp?

- kra

You looked like a dream,
A significant nightmare
Or a blurred daydream-
I could never decide.
It was unreal, vivid,
Like the ones ,
Which make you crave for grey clouds
Instead of the bright blue,
Like the times,
When the soft sound of raindrops,
Falling in slow motion seems sweet,
But you need a hurricane,
When you need to break the sandhouses,
Just to build them again,
This time, a little differently.
Yes, you looked like a dream,
Which one can remember and relish through ages,
Without being swept Away by the deepest slumber.
The ones, which are
Difficult to write about,
Yet meant for novels.
You looked like a dream
And I don't know if I ever want to wake up.