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K Balachandran Jun 2018
clatter in attic,
cloud army rehearses war dance;
cleans dusty armour!
Danielle Jun 2018
Not myself,
Not with those wide staring eyes.
Staring through this wall of water,
Leaking from my attic spaces.
My brain leaks fears, like a rusty tin tap.
No, not myself.
Not with these thoughts or falling tears.
Depression sometimes makes you into someone you're not.
Rezium May 2018
Now when you paint, you've got to do it in a correct way. But make sure not to leave any lines. Otherwise you'll have to cover them up. If however you do, make sure you do it smoothly. That way no one could ever see them and your mistake will be hidden*


Blink
Now your mind begins to think
Did they see
Where could they be
EXACTLY!
Maybe I'm overthinking
What does it matter.
It's all the same.
It's blended as best as could be.
No one will ever know of the ***** deed that I did.


Up and down
Continous in repeat
May I speak
I fell in weak
Now I reek
I be
No wait
I bleed
These lines of imperfection
But twist them to a misconception
Addiction to it
I'm used to it

**** IT, AGAIN??
No worries. I'll just fix it.  


But what do they know
They can't identify
Someone of wrong
That seems right
But honeslty
They seep
And they're seen
For a Reason.
I bleed these
Because the tension is to hard for me
The vessel is corrupt
And enough is enough
But it's too rough
When these lines bleed
A release
Of ease
To please
Me
Of everything
That others don't see
Is pushed onto me
I'm free
I'm relieved
Wait...
He seen...


WAIT PLEASE DON'T LEAVE

Lines that lie of his life
Of an addicts attic for a long time
Never enough
so bundle it up
Exposed to the lies
No more
I swear I'll try
But how can you say that won't
When you can go behind my back
And just take another pack
And just continue off track
From your pact


Ah forget it...it's useless
You can't see meaning with out looking at both meanings. So stay off of them
E McNamara Mar 2018
I was in corner
Collecting dust
Waiting for you
Loyal to you

Until awareness
Consumed me.
I saw,
You didn’t even want me.

So I left.
I took my first,
Full,
Breath.

Since the attic
Of which
You left me
And forgot me.
Garrett Burger Dec 2017
sleeping in the attic.
I allow the sensation,
the atmosphere to be formed and felt
No illusion of yours
creates the things I imagine and feel
on my own,
alone.

In this attic
some would say
the slanting ceilings
bring me down
But I,
would disagree.
which is why
I'm In the attic

I see the peek. The rising walls
Lifting me along with it
Though their opinions are not relevant,
So should be my choice of words.
but, because, though

I'm here.
I'm here because I chose to be
here.
choose to stay
The walls too close to echo
my thoughts.
too close to shout
Even the whispers are heard
in full volume

Maybe I rushed that one out.
let's take it back to,
the attic.

Not room for too much,
Just too little time to worry
about space for the things
You don't need.
don't use,
or don't have.
Only the things that belong
make it with you
When you live in a space,
like this

I'd cover the walls,
Though I don't like the metaphor
I'd wait until tomorrow
to address the issue,
Though I have no way of knowing
when tomorrow has arrived.
yet here i am.
Avoiding it anyway.

and I'm already hearing myself being talked,
and thought.
into only a space as small as these 4 uneven walls
allow.

to no surprise.
Only until I closed my eyes
did I see
The reason I'm here
In the attic.
Crystal Freda Sep 2017
Up the stairs
she would climb
Into the attic
at night-time.
Her little legs
crawled up each stair
and soon she discovered
what was up there.
Antiques from all kinds
of things she had never seen.
The attic was quite dusty
as if it had never been cleaned.
She scattered through every box
and discovered a trunk.
She searched for a key
and found one under some junk.
She opened it to find a photo
of someone with her.
She looked closely.
The person was unfamiliar.
to be continued...
gabriela Aug 2017
YOU NEEDED THAT COMFORT DIDN'T YOU HOW AM I SUPPOSED TO SLEEP UNDER ALL THESE OVERPASSES WHEN THE CARS DON'T RUN LIKE THAT AROUND HERE TELL ME HOW AM I SUPPOSED TO TAKE EVERYTHING YOU SAY WITH A GRAIN OF SALT WHEN I'M TOO HOPEFUL FOR THAT **** WE BOTH KNOW IT GETS DANGEROUS I HAVEN'T BEEN AROUND FOR HUNDREDS OR THOUSANDS OF YEARS BUT I KNOW A THING OR TWO ABOUT "STORAGE" AND MEMORIES THAT LIVE PACKED AWAY IN THE ATTIC AND ON GOD YOU CAN'T BLOW DUST OFF THIS ONE LIKE THE REST
i'm not really sure what to think of it anymore.
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