with no place left to go
i face the cold hard fight
when you live under a rock
darkness is your only sight

with no stone left un-turned
that leaves me nowhere to hide
left out in the sun to burn
i can't turn this stone inside

with no reason left to live
i grow colder by the night
crawling from this stone to give
my life to the dying light

your lips leak from shadows
too cold to bear your name
the trees hide you away from me
miles away and i mean nothing
every word burns like wildfire

can't the sky let me forget?

I have never been sophisticated
sophistication just never related
relative to everything i hated
hatred of the over-stated

i have never been materialistic
materialism isnt a characteristic
characterized by a mind that's realistic
realize i am not hedonistic

i never gave a **** about tradition
traditional is subject to my definition
defined by my own composition
composed of passion and ambition

planting and then digging up the past
like grasping hands of shattered glass
scattered patterns come back fast
an attachment to the splattered mass

blackened fragments of first and last
spattered paths that lead right back
stabbing agony that will never pass
shackled to the everlasting black

trying to fix broken people isn't romantic
hoping that with enough love and compassion you will be able to end a viscous cycle of addiction isn't romantic
there is nothing pure or golden about it
neither noble nor valliant
it's just stupid and selfish and idealistic
so let them drink
and drink and drink
because no matter how hard you try
they won't stop
till it's too late
-

mother earth,
we have stolen so much from you- too much.
we have taken your trees, your mountain tops,
your moss covered rocks, your rivers and streams.
i know the tears you shed- i shed them too (for my home),
i know how desperate you are to repair- to rebuild,
and i wish that i could lay my hands upon you.
i wish that i could heal you all by myself.

once you learn the self-efficient art of
losing yourself to denial, the lenses are
blacked out - replaced by a similar world
to the world before - but easier to stand in.
i've gotten denial down to a science. smoke
and mirrors became something i'm smart
at doing: reflecting, refracting, d i m m i n g
the lights. where is the plan b of denial at?

there is nothing to stand behind. i have
nothing to offer and nothing to give.

i'm losing my obscurity because i'm letting
my walls down around you. what does it
mean to play by the rules when i bend them?

- kra