kripa

i push the pull doors

[kripa-ish]

listening to noah kahan isn’t enough i need him to hug me and tell me its all going to be okay

[kripa-ish]

conscious paralysis -kripa

i dont claim any of the background images only the poem is mine lmao

[kripa-ish]

shamelessly here to humiliate myself again

[kripa-ish]

title: the lilac-crescent moon

picture credit- pinterest

[kripa-ish]

felt like writing a little brainrot today lmao

nonsense instances commence through common-sense existences leisurely condense intense suspense ascends tense moments heap the fence influence innocence;

hence-

defense pretense take offence, resistance. the expense of the consequence's too tense to recompense.

-kripa

[kripa-ish]

i shut my eyes and watch the murk of the darkness surround me. imitating an abyss; infinite, yet in my well-reasoned consciousness, shielded by the membrane of the lids of my capturing cameras.

-kripa

[kripa-ish]

Nyx's reign; under the translucence of carnationed auroras, Eleos wept elixir, on the cusp of chaos and calm, dwindling the periphery of contrast.

-kripa

[kripa-ish]

midnight coffee and worn out daydreams,

a perfect brew of ecstasy and dread.

with my palms on my eyes as i sit there,

nibbling on the crumbs of the nightmares i once fed.

-kripa

[kripa-ish]

my reasonable treasons have succumbed the numb

which once dragged me out of this gruesome tire,

and i’ve ordealed enough scorching coal-beds,

to make me undread hellfire.

-kripa

[kripa-ish]

i grabbed to embrace moments, like butterflies from palms, slipping from a hairsbreadth away.

as i hopelessly crave the surreal existence of the sixty-first minute, the twenty-fifth hour; to the week the eighth, to the month the thirty-second, to the year the three-hundred-and-sixty-seventh day.

-kripa