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Cole Apr 16
In moments of stillness

I sit and think of

Fluorescent bulbs,

Pressured speech,

Chaos escaping lips

Pyramids and gardens grown,

And quietness leaving

Me while noise devoured

my once unconquerable soul.

I sit still and think of

The minutes put to miles

Of where I have been


Long quiet winter walks

and crying in red cars.

I have too thought of

The rejection always shutting the windows

And the door knobs falling off

Of once promising doors.

I have thought long and hard

About impossibilities.

The sky is no longer purple.

You no longer love me.

Good and evil are more complex individuals.

In moments of stillness

I hear my own voice

Fumbling and stuttering

Flimsily jangling the keys

For the right key

to unlock my truth.

With each step in toe

And each truth

Finally exposed

I have come to understand

The humor

And beauty in light

Intersecting on the window pane

Giving little comfort

In its warmth .

And although

The miles treaded

Took more than minutes

I too have realized

My soul however weathered,

Beaten and devoured

Has always been unstoppable.
Jennifer Ale Mar 30
After the darkness
a new day in light,
love is rejected
like flesh on unfamiliar bone,
the heart is
neither open nor closed,
life in between
and falls like autumn leaves
The open gaping mouth of glass, looking in and looking out
The light refracting across the silent room
Everything is closed off; the blinds; the doors; the boxes
The glass eyes of the house muffling the sounds of the outside world

The inhabitant grown a slave to watching
The gaping mouth of glass, looking in and looking out
Stretching lines, darkening eyes, smiles turned hollow
She'll trace the filtered light with frozen desperate fingers

Her sounds are empty and echo like a dripping water from a faucet
The tiled floor is as cold as the snow that falls. Unseen
The open gaping mouth of glass, looking in and looking out
The wind seems to be whispering words she no longer yearns for

The blood is dancing with the cold
Warming the static embrace of her head and fingers
The inhabitant closes the blinds again, hiding the quiet scene
The open gaping mouth of glass, looking in and looking out
Most people believe this is about suicide so I'm going to clear this up. The inhabitant and the girl are two different people. The poem focuses on a scene, but the whole purpose is to invoke the feelings that come with paranoia. It's about a man who killed a girl, but also talking about the guilt and fear of hiding a bad thing we've done. I hope it somehow showed what I was trying to convey.
robin’s-egg blue walls
contain two empty shells—
one lamp on, one lamp off
four eyes open
both minds closed
Amanda Kay Burke Nov 2020
I would like someone to care enough
Be brave and at least try
Find a ladder taller than treetops
Climb over my wall and say hi

That would be miraculous
No one dares come close
Cannot seem to attract any company
Too much wicked water around my post

How do you dam moat protecting
Parts hidden from the rest of the world
Do you let down the gates surrounding?
Fortress leaving carpet unfurled

How do you open organs up?
When you make walls shutting out
Spiral into solitude
One day you'll be happy without

The answers you will not find in yourself
At least never on your own
Won't discover our purpose in life
Until we put down the cell phone

Maybe it is the technology
Distracting from walls each must scale
You need to hit the power button
Reach the top without fail
Amanda Kay Burke Nov 2020
They saw world through closed eyes

In explanation
Had grown up too fast

Eyes traumatized
Sights not meant for such young
Supple bodies

But never opening to realize I am not her

The rain that drenched her as a young lady barely grazed me

Maybe I have closed eyes to thank for that
About my parents and how my mom is so overprotective but maybe it's her protectiveness that has made my life so safe
PM Oct 2020
Once again you tell me nothing is wrong
but I have known you for too long to see it.
And with that little lie, things start to break.
So once again I try to see what is wrong,
but you are still a closed door in my face
and with everything that is going wrong
I can not take one more thing on my plate.
This being the last drop to overflow my life.
Now I find myself deep in a bottle of wine.
Just trying to drink my problems away
but it won't help since I'm stuck in place.
Unable to move.
annh Aug 2020
I closed my eyes against the mortal limitations of this world and settled back to watch reruns of my youth. Discouragement and dissatisfaction gave way to golden hours and glory days, depicted in vivid technicolour and accompanied by a flugelhorn fandango.
‘No story is the same to us after a lapse of time; or rather we who read it are no longer the same interpreters.’
- George Eliot
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