Submit your work, meet writers and drop the ads. Become a member
It’s dry and still in the house this afternoon,
The way houses are at 4:00 in December.
I feel a little itchy and claustrophobic,
Sitting on the floor.
I hate this ******* carpet.
Berber.

I know you love me,
But sometimes I wish you would let me destroy myself completely.

Darkening winter gray settles over us in a dull film,
Berber carpeting the world.
It seeps into the house through cracks in the doorframe you kicked down when we were locked out that night.
Into me too, coating my brain and joints and dreams in liquid fog.
The streetlights will be dark awhile yet.

Cotton ***** fill up my mouth
And I’m fine, just fine.
My grandmother’s favorite color was gray before people awarded points for such things.

It’s nearly night, now, and the sky swirls with peek a boo pink and blue where the clouds are thin and blowing.
No streetlights yet.
The shadows gather at their feet.
I pull out the spaghetti;
Time to start dinner.
Nigdaw Aug 2021
I swat futilely at the moth
whose larvae happily eat
my bedroom carpet
here for my nightly ritual
antacid
teeth clean
bed
suddenly I wonder
at my own mortality
where is this all going
then I smell it again
odour of rancid sweat
only in one small area
but no mistake
it feels as though the moths
and someone have unfinished
business here
a carpet to eat
a life not long enough
to achieve everything
still hanging on
not quite ready to leave
so maybe we never have enough time
to be satisfied
still, no heartburn tonight
and my breath is minty fresh
(I can almost hear those buggers chewing
as I go to sleep)
Red carpet
All you see is red carpet
Mud ,speckles of mud
Fallen red but not forgotten
All you see is red carpet
Red carpet
Berries blooming
Sticky mud
Squelch ! Squelch!
Ref carpet is fading
You no longer see fields of ref carpet
Dark , dense, squelchy mud
Dark mud
Oh look
Fallen ,fallen leaves
Speckled on the ground
Red, yellow ,gold
Pure hope
Guilding us to the red carpet
Remember the red carpet is always there
Lydia Aug 2020
I left the music on while I laid on the floor
sinking into the carpet felt good
I had no purpose to get up
and no intentions on trying
I had no reason to be anywhere and no one wanted me somewhere
I realized if I disappeared no one would notice
if I stayed right there on that floor in my bedroom for the weekend, it wouldn’t matter because nobody cared
I was utterly alone
and insanely lonely
I thought
I’m going to stay here forever
where the carpet is soft and the world has stopped and no one knows what I’m doing
and most of all, because I dont have to feel anything except the floor on my face
Marri Dec 2019
It's late.

Moonlight seeps into the room through the tiny cracks of dusty blinds.
It illuminates everything.
Touching the books on the shelf,
Caressing the plush carpet,
And landing ever so delicately on the girl knelt at the foot of her bed.

Her eyes are held shut,
Tears leak down the sides of her face,
Fogging her glasses.

Her arms are folded,
She's reverent,
And her head is bowed.

She breathes in and out with the sound of the fan waving overhead.
Her heart beats to the crack of the house settling beneath her knees.
She prays.

The cars drive by her house unknowingly,
The lights dash across the walls.
It doesn't distract her.

The buzz of her night light hums a mesmerizing tune,
Sweetly melodic.
She smiles through the tears.

The faint talk of another muffled through the walls,
She stays kneeling.

The tears don't stop streaming as the heavens open to her.
She raises her face to the ceiling,
Eyes still shut.
She sighs.

Kneeling there,
patiently,
She waits for a sign.

Outside a storm is brewing,
The rain begins to pour.
The thunder is lowly roaring,
Lightly tapping at her door.

Yet, nothing moves her.

She stays in place,
Still knelt,
Still praying with tears upon her face.

She sighs.
Bows her head once more,
And still held shut her eyes.

Some say she recites the Lord's Prayer.
Or perhaps a Psalm.
But maybe she just kneels, patiently waiting, staying calm.

"God, are you there?"
Viji Vishwanath Nov 2019
When I seen the purple blooming tree from a distance,
It attracted me to have a look with no distance..

And that sight was of immense pleasure,
Which filled my heart with full of love treasure...

That tropical trees are known as jacarandas,
And also the tree world’s spring stars...

That breath taking flowers are pretty enough to describe in word dilemma,
And that magnificent purple blue blooms resembles as an elegant umbrella...

And the fallen petals makes way for a dazzling display of unimpeded purple haze,
Which looks like a lavender carpet at a quick gaze...

As flowers are regarded as a symbol of love, beauty and a gift of nature,
Are thus used to provoke love and happiness with its power to make us cheer....

Let us all love this nature’s blessings forever,
To make it a never ending full bloom ever....
Purple blooms or lavender carpet. (Choice is yours)
Anastasia Jul 2019
My flesh burns,
Irritated by the rough carpet
I kick and scream
But they won't let go
Holding me down
My legs are raw
No one can hear me
Down in this old
stale ***** drenched room
Hacking away
Cutting my hair
With a thin blade
The handle thick
Sending blows to my head
What have I done
To deserve this?
My arms
Are bleeding
Skin
Is peeling
They won't let go
They won't
They won't
Blood
In a scratchy carpet
***** scented
Face down
Feet
Kicking blows
Into my ribs
Tears
Mix with blood
What have I done
To deserve this?
JT Nelson Jun 2019
Cool cool floor
Of smooth hard tile
Barefeet slapping in
Successive taps

Step
       Step
               Step
                       Step

Then onto carpet

Silence.
Just observing the almost silent moments of someone stepping across a tile floor and then onto the carpet. Mostly mundane... definitely not something ever thought of as magical, this is something going on all over all the time. Sometimes things like that blow my mind.
Next page